The blizzard is wailing,
The snowy wind again,
At the window, flailing,
Wrathful to all men.

Absorbed in dreams,
I gloomily listen to
These winter hymns
And their lament, too:

Now woes are groaning
In this chilling noise,
Now bare orphans moaning
Or a dejected voice;

Now the quiescent throes,
So forcefully oppressed,
Now unspoken sorrows,
Hidden, yet suppressed.

And as if, in this winter song
Where grief is breathing,
The world sadness for long
Had been pleading.