When the first day of snow come

When the first day of snow come
the city of thousand starlings and thousand bearlings wake.
We wake not in the midst of
ascorbate-enrichèd acerola
but a white blanket over the fowelberry feast.

To-day is not the day of chestnut-throwing.
To-night is not the night of drinking
potatowine with salmonberry smack.

¿How many mee halls do we need to call
before we embark in enterprise
of rosehip-picking?

Berlin