I ride a horse, alone,
through a desert landscape,
on a gloomy autumn day,
and the moon hung low in the sky.

I saw my father´s house in the distance,
surrounded by a strange atmosphere,
a black swamp touching it closely,
and nebulous warrying ghosts.


The mystery I couldn´t solve,
was the letter I´d get from him,
and when my eyes fall to the ground,
I suddenly saw the footprints in the snow.

I found him in his room, alone
the paleness of his skin was appalling,
a paralysed slave of an untold horror,
„I´m gonna die,“ he said, „I´ve gotta die.“

„Sooner or later the moment will come,
when together with my reason I´ll lose my life,
fighting againts that mercilles ghost,
ominous whispers in the darkness.“

„Can´t you her that? – I´ve heard it for many days,
it comes from the forest down at the lake,
Where can I escape? Won´t it come back?
oh, woe is me, poor human being!“


The mystery I couldn´t solve,
was the letter I´d get from him,
and when my eyes fall to the ground,
I suddenly saw the footprints in the snow.

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