I would come, if they waited for me, if I weren't the bitter-untoward captive of the bitter-untoward waiting... I would stay, if they let me stay, and if the sky didn't resist the wings of my fiery steps... If the night comes, I descend quietly, my lips whisper benumbed with cold and snow: The numbing dark have come. The pleasure is ancestral, but it is all right, I have been suffering badly on my own, and there will be again one, who will close his eyes quietly...
Chorus: Song of the winter, shadows are burning, Torches for the sky, they are already ash Shadows are burning, dead cold lights, When the path ends, where can it find us? 2x
I am walking on snow-frost In the thick of fog, in winter, in the shade of the forest, But in sunshine I would come alive again, it keeps me in fever, And the song of spring will sound.