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End of a nature's cycle,
becomes in a silent death.
A ruler through centuries
gets the victory
with a solstice medal.

It is a cold night to live,
evocating the winter charm.

Freezing my bones,
a cold treasure in a chest
with golden leaves
and a book of memories
to sing the History.

This bonfire smell in (the) air
talks about my childhood,
about places where I was.

In thousands of snow horses,
with an iced shield
and a crystal sword,
the Winter Lord returns.

Hell of coolness ones
the city in this winternight.

The naked trees doing
a symphony of winds,
blessing those ice stars in (the) skies.

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