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Winter has come, and maybe it was time,
leafless trees standing around my house.
Burns the fire, down in the stony hall
where my fathers used to sit.

Falls the rain
on empty fields
where the hares prepare to sleep

Winter is knocking at my door,
but it's a strong one and it will resist.
Still the moment has come to hold
what I love the most.

Covers the snow
the stormy mountains
where the game hides from the wolves.

I don't need another season.


I don't need another season.

Just more time to hold her on my chest,
look at the birds flying to the west.

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