And the moonlight spills
from the dark drapes
of the cold starry night,
little frosted flowers
move slowly with the November breeze,
and the world is lost
in this eternal river of time;
the silent form of the passing moon
enthralls our silent gaze,
and your hand,
laced in mine, feels so warm;
happiness has no bounds tonight,
a joyous moment
in simple splendor,
is it the beauty of the moon or you,
that's making it so magical?
The music of silence
plays for long,
and the night and time
have frozen deep,
like painted flowers
that never move,
this memory shall ever live
as eternal as the moon.
Amatulla Mohammadi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-frosted-memory/
