By the drop above the void, right along the very edge,
Lashing horses with a horsewhip, I am hastening them, urging.
All a sudden out of air, gulping wind and gobbling fog,
Sensing in a fatal rapture: I’m a goner, I’m a goner!

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
Don’t obey a taut whip! Beg you, don’t!
That the horses so unruly should have fallen to me -
Out of time to live up, fail to finish the song...

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...

I will perish - like a flake, the gale will sweep me off the earth face,
And the sleigh will drag my brawn at the daybreak by the snow plain.
Will you go, my wayward horses, into an unhurried pace,
Just a little, to elongate the journey to the final haven!

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
You are not to be goaded by a thong.
That the horses so unruly should have fallen to me,
Out of time to live up, fail to finish the song...

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...

We’re on time: before the Lord, you are never late to stand.
Why are the angels chanting, then, with the voices ever so vexed?
Whether it’s the harness bell, choking with a bitter lament,
Or it’s me, a swear at horses lest they drag the sleigh in haste?

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
Don’t you gallop, beseech you to slow!
That the horses so unruly should have fallen to me,
Out of time to live up, but to finish the song...

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...

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