When will the lifeless winter come
Wake my corpse from its dream
Rid me of all the sun's heat
Give me the food of life to eat?
When will this sickle of death come
Grant me books so full of life
Where I can forever hide
Away from my family's fright?
When will I see my dearest winter
Who makes the world lose vitality
But gives me ghosts for company
And in solitude gives a jolly symphony?
What I desire shall come inevitably
But when the clock strikes midnight
I shall desire the old delights.
When winter comes, I'll long for a summer night.
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