The White Deer Among the Snowfields

They pass glinting across the snowfields,
As if part of the frost-sharp, ice-crazed morning,
Gleaming as metallic as the edges of iron shields,
Has broken off and sent itself out as a warning
That here is beauty greater than mortal can endure;
Here is pallor to drown the soul in bright rapture.

They pass, tossing their heads, the white deer,
At ease, only half-bounding, full of a languid grace.
They are the link between their world and here,
Only momentarily distant from that other place
Where they are a far commoner but no less fair sight.
Only for a moment did they come to ride the light,

To dance among the snow by walking, and glint
So brilliantly that the sunlight on them must splinter,
That they must offer of some otherwhen a hint,
A place where even the darkest season, winter,
Is still far fairer than the other three can be on earth.
The white deer pass and vanish like the moment of rebirth.