I cord my sack, I knuckle my skies,
now light the hills up so fair.
Away from the furnace comfort! So glad and so free
towards the great, white forest is my way.
In great speed, I make a way
amongst winter dressed tree stumps and stones.
The whizzing wind strokes my cheeks,
and the snow sprinkles from low branches.
The wings on my feet fuels life and lust and courage!
Now I have a meeting with the highest mountain top!
All that is heavy and dense, all that is petty and gray,
is stricken and it fares away with the wind.
And when I see up, then I glance from the top
the light valley with blended deep forests,
then beats my chest, of jubilated lust:
" I love, oh, I love this land!"