(At the edge of the avalancheAt the glacier's icy rimGrows the flower of the snowfieldsTrembling in the wintry wind.It dares to live in edgesWhere naught else would ever grow.So fragile, so unlikelyAn owl slices through this blow.She dares the katabatsHer gizzard madly quivers,But for her dearest of friendsShe vows she shall deliver.Like the lily of the avalancheThe glacier's icy roseLike a flower of the windThe bright fierceness in her glows.The bravest are the smallThe weakest are the strongThe most fearful find the courageTo battle what is wrong.)