Maybe it was predestined for me To follow you through the forests Muffled in gloom Till the end of my days To light my fire on the other side of the valley.
To dart off and run to your fire-place In the morning To touch with my face alder-trees That are mute witnesses of embraces
Maybe there in gloomy edges of silence I will follow you through the forests Muffled in gloom And look for your vestige in dewy grass
