Where are those men who wandered upon the roads
With gentle eyes so saddened by crime and shame
Small brothers in the dark forests with wolves and snow
Where are those men who march onward towards death
They grimaced only for snowdrifts, and cold and arrows
Small brothers in dark forests, wandering mile upon mile
From people's homes and farms where wickedness lies
Who hears their silver bells in the cloudy night?
Where have the brothers and the musicians gone
In the valley they have told me they're still alive