At the edge of the avalanche At the glacier's icy rim Grows the flower of the snowfields Trembling in the wintry wind. It dares to live in edges Where naught else would ever grow. So fragile, so unlikely An owl slices through this blow. She dares the katabats Her gizzard madly quivers, But for her dearest of friends She vows she shall deliver. Like the lily of the avalanche The glacier's icy rose Like a flower of the wind The bright fierceness in her glows. The bravest are the small The weakest are the strong The most fearful find the courage To battle what is wrong.