All the years and ages and times in a row
Everything tends to run from all blizzards and colds
Why those birds are all bound to fly to the north,
If the birds still can choose warmer south to go
They donít need to become great and glorious.
Now that under their wings itís not ice
They will find their small birdieís happiness,
a reward for their long daring flight.
How come we could not sleep, what could happen to us?
What would force us to go out and sail in rough seas?
Yet, we didnít have a chance to observe polar lights
Lights donít happen too often - expensive indeed!
It is so silent. But the gulls dart like lightning.
we feed them Emptiness out of hand
To reward us for deafening quietness
Will be definitely sound again
It is so long that we had only our white dreams
Snows washed out all the rest of the colors and tints
We are totally blinded by those whitish beams
To be cured when the black strip of land makes a glimpse
Our throats will let out all the stillness
Our weakness will melt like a shade.
To reward us for long nights of hopelessness
It will come - a never ending polar day.
The North is a freedom, and hope, country that just never ends
Pristine snow like a long life without telling lies.
Ravens can not peck out our eyes from our faces
It is only because ravens here donít fly
for all those Who didnít take evil prophecies
did not lie down in snow for a rest
for all of those in reward for their loneliness
There will be their someone their best