I often hunt you in my dreams,
 But your wicked claw awaits me,
 Aboard this snow-lit island,
 Veins like tortured winter trees,
 'Tis the service of my hand,
 That silence climbs upon thee.
 
 You are sweet and fine to listen to !
 Long tresses about your neck,
 Yet much is false.
 This mighty evening,
 I've seen no face.
 This is crushing me.
 My quill it aches.
 
 And old ships die like swans,
 Against our frozen icy shore,
 Pass your dying body,
 I leave you in your thoughts
 
 Trees dance and fail
 Tell them I came
 My beauty pale
 Was yours the same?
 
 Viens, il est temps de partir
 Je vais regretter ta haine
 Ta vainte triomphante
 Fera sa reverence
 
 I laid them in books
 Just your heart and mine
 For lovers to read
 The lonely to pine
 
 Through my broken skin
 And cherry tree blood
 The real world falls in
 A false life of love