Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in
the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your
worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come.
King Winter steps out from his ice palace,
Strolling with stateliness, truly the Great.
In cold snow, thinking only of numbness,
Peasants shiver, resigned to their hopeless fate,
In the teeth of a brutal, vicious wind,
Stamping their feet, so chilled their teeth chatter.
Winds yowl; howl, chilling even the thick-skinned.
In torrents pounds rain, never in patters.
As they shield themselves from sudden attacks
Of sharp, arrow-like, falling icicles,
King Winter sends showers of soft snow in sacks,
Flut'ering down with stunning flakes- magical.
Tired, Winter makes his way home, in his prime,
For 'tis true even Kings need rest, sometimes.