What grieve-stricken agony
Expelled me from my paths
When early-morning-hazelike billows
Were still resting in the snow-covered grove.
In far ossified moor
The old mountainside faded for a long time
Wherever the look is wandering
There's no going back.
Darkness is surmounted now
After a long way in solitude.
From pristine landing stage
Follows gently and closely -
The moon's pale light
To the end of old ways