He Asked, What flower blooms in winter?
And he asked, What snow falls in summer?
And, What paper is never erased by erasing?
Once in old Armenia there was
(or perhaps there never was) a custom
for choosing a bride.
Whether the girl were pretty
was not so important
as whether the girl had pretty ways.
And that was not so important
as whether she had people
who smiled the way your people smiled.
But that was not so important as the answers
she could give the riddles.
And she answered,
Snow is the flower that blooms in winter.
And she answered,
Death is the snow that falls in summer.
And she answered,
Memory is the paper that cannot be erased
by erasing.
And the riddles were solved. Or they were not,
depending upon how pretty she was, after all.