Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

La neige tombe mais ne reste pas.
Quand elle sort, le soleil vient,
Trop tard pour baiser son ami,
La belle neige, la reine de Janvier.

I'm not used to committing poetry in a second language. Still trying to figure out whether "arrive" flows better than "vient" ... and whether I want to change the tense of "when she leaves" to passé composé (i.e. perfect, "when she has gone"). But fretting about craft aside, here's my impression of this afternoon in Baltimore.

Something about snow tickles the part of my brain where the little French I can manage is stored. So the idea for this popped into my head as soon as it got really bright out, but it took me a while to get it right because rephrasing-for-meter doesn't happen as quickly in a language I'm so rusty in.