Wretched is my lot here, mirthless is my fate Alone to face the cruel winters, endure the dreary cold What is there to hope for, what is there to seek For this forsaken child, for this forlorn son
Whose sins am I now atoning for? Whose lapses am I forced to undo?
So echoes my tune through these darkling shaws Above the frozen streams resounds my song Only these sullen trees will hearken to me Only snow-bound hills ever hear my call
What is there to hope for, what is there to seek For this forsaken child, for this forlorn son For this embittered man, for this grim castaway
Solace I find in the light of the pale moon My comfort in the night the murmur of the trees Now I set forth without ever glancing back It is time to make my own way through the duskTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
