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In the dire obscurity of another dark |
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February, there lowers a fog of uncertainty |
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On a thin gasp of wind known only to me. |
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My shivering sigh spreads a shadow far and wide. |
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The frigid, leaden sky remains immobile, petrified. |
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I attempt to seek out the source of this ancient curse by bad-tempered |
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Gods,Of how the |
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Moon keeps on its course without being stopped by the cries of dogs. |
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Oh my love, |
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I am freezing in my marble dressing gown. |
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Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down. |
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As this hesitant haze, it deepens, under a blanket of doubt, |
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I've been sleeping. |
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Here, our deterioration begins, |
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Where the tears that are wept are kept for safe-keeping. |
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They say it will come to an end. |
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Then all things will begin again. |
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In this eggshell atmosphere, which is so very thin,20 thousand million copper needles begin vibrating... |
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My frigidity has been eclipsed by the severity of my trembling lips. |
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Although I locked my heart at dusk, |
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I will open it again when the light comes in. |
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Oh my love, |
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I'm freezing in my marble dressing gown. |
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Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down. |
