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Winter Evening | |
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The storm wind covers the sky, | |
Whirling the fleecy snow drifts; | |
Now it howls like a wolf, | |
Now it is crying, like a lost child, | |
Now rustling the decayed thatch | |
On our tumbledown roof, | |
Now, like a delayed traveller, | |
Knocking on our window pane. | |
Our wretched little cottage | |
Is gloomy and dark. | |
Why do you sit all silent, | |
Hugging the window, old gran? | |
Has the howling of the storm | |
Wearied you, at last, dear friend? | |
Or are you dozing fitfully | |
Under the spinning wheel's humming? | |
Let us drink, dearest friend | |
To my poor wasted youth. | |
Let us drink from grief: where is the glass? | |
Our hearts at least will be lightened. | |
Sing me a song of how the bluetit | |
Quietly lives across the sea. | |
Sing me a song of how the young girl | |
Went to fetch water in the morning. | |
The storm wind covers the sky, | |
Whirling the fleecy snow drifts; | |
Now it howls like a wolf, | |
Now it is crying, like a lost child, | |
Let us drink, dearest friend | |
To my poor wasted youth. | |
Let us drink from grief: where is the glass? | |
Our hearts at least will be lightened. | |
Click to see it in Cyrillic again: | |