The wall where we used to meet, is it still playing woefully?
I wonder whether (my) lover is crying to my troubles sincerely
It is snowing on your hair, baby, don't you feel cold?
You went away over the mountains. Didn't you think about me?
The lover can't keep the headcover (I) gave, keeps loosing it.
This love makes a man sick inside, finishes him.
It is snowing on your hair, baby, don't you feel cold?
You went away over the mountains. Didn't you think about me?