| This is a song for the cursed
|
| No one knows when the end comes
|
| Far away there is maybe an elixir for me
|
| When winter comes in my land
|
| This curse seems to be noble
|
| But is it really a curse to love loneliness ?
|
| This coldness It makes me feel alive
|
| The sun is hiding
|
| Behind the fog and the clouds
|
| The wind in my hair
|
| Takes me back into my dreams
|
| And drops me off
|
| In my snowy landscape
|
| This is the song of my fall
|
| Slowly plunging me into the snow
|
| I feel my skin getting cold
|
| And my bones becoming frail
|
| During this time my soul is escaping through nature
|
| My body's dying and assimilated by the ground and its life
|
| I remember the meadow
|
| I remember the feelings
|
| When the grass caressed my being
|
| And when the sorrow took me
|
| I remember the forest
|
| I remember the fall of leaves
|
| When the mold was all coated
|
| And my sadness won't leave me
|
| Now I can see this beautiful world
|
| Without any trouble
|
| Painting my own travel
|
| And finally my own landscape
|
| The song of the breeze wakes me up
|
| It sings in harmony with the crying river
|
| And the whispering trees
|
| The fog dressing up the mountains
|
| With its most beautiful coat
|
| I can only admire the show that nature offers me
|
| I see the meadow
|
| I feel the grass caressing my being
|
| I see the forest
|
| I see the leaves falling |