Winter (Giuseppe Arcimboldo), Sonnet #440

My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase. Click here:
My Human Disguise.

I am old and my blood won’t thaw.

I am the end. My lips are mold.

As if I execute some law,

I imprison all with the cold,

The icy and the bitter winds,

Punish spring’s, fall’s, and summer’s sins.

My eyes, nose and cheeks rot and cake.

A few green leaves cling to me still —

My young branches refuse to die.

It’s time to summon the first flake —

My sole star only time can kill —

And then to open up the sky.

When all is buried I will sleep

A tearless world that will not weep.