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Feasts of harvest held |
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Midsummer sun done her spell |
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The crow sings his song |
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Quite ruggedly, slightly out of key |
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The swallow flies on |
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But the Northman only waits |
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Staring calmly, silently and thoughtfully |
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As the rising north wind cunningly invades |
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Soon the leaves will fall again |
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And be gone just like her smile |
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Hearts can turn with the autumn winds |
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And the winds sometimes feel vile |
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Last warm rays absorbed |
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The mist soon whispers its lore |
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Now wait for the cold |
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Be prepared for the falling |
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Of the new winter's snow |
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And the changes that will come |
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Then I'll hold on to the memory |
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It was you and me |
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That I felt on those nights so vividly |
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The time for a feast will soon be around |
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Join, ye lads, and make a sound |
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A sound of joy in the winter's embrace |
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With laughter the longing |
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Now be replaced |
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With laughter the longing |
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Now be replaced |
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With laughter the longing |
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Now be replaced |
