A dark wind blows A woman gathers her clothes before the coming storm Her curtains dance She shouts her husband's name To a plaguelike sky Thunder rolls on by Her daughter rests by the shoreline A sun waits behind an iron armada His gentle kiss blows away from her When she sleeps, her mother curses the northern winds A pasture, a well and the first harvest of the year To dream is to die alone To stay is to die inside She could almost touch the color of the wheat Before it faded into the grey A man of oak stood next to her A hand on her shoulder, she was beckoned into the night The lantern has almost run out of oil And the snow keeps getting deeper The bread is burning over the hearth And the wind keeps on howling The mother of a fatherless child cries herself to sleep And the void keeps on growing