اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Hear the whisper of north land
frozen, soulless spirit sleeps
heathen people in the winter
prays mark of gathering.
Autumn winds be gone
will-o-the wisp, blaze of the night.
Mystic land of the autumn winds
shall meet the fate
rivers no longer revive and the trees die away.
