Dark February

In the dire obscurity of another dark February

There lowers a fog of uncertainty

On a thin gasp of wind known only to me

My shivering sigh spreads a shadow far and wide

The frigid leaden sky remains immobile, petrified

I attempt to seek out the source

Of this ancient curse by bad-tempered Gods

Of how the Moon keeps on its course

Without being stopped by the cries of dogs

Oh my love, I am freezing in my marble dressing gown

Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down

As this hesitant haze, it deepens

Under a blanket of doubt, I've been sleeping

Here, our deterioration begins

Where the tears that are wept are kept for safe-keeping

They say it will come to an end

Then all things will begin again

In this eggshell atmosphere, which is so very thin

20 thousand million copper needles begin vibrating

My frigidity has been eclipsed by the severity of my trembling lips

Although I locked my heart at dusk

I will open it again when the light comes in

Oh my love, I'm freezing in my marble dressing gown.

Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down.