Stand at the end of the years
Listen to the sound of the wind blowing
Unprovoked cold
Is not waiting for a snow

Time flew away in a panic
Footprints on the snow
In the year like a stream of water
Leave traces of your way
Villages in the distance
A few dog barks
The howling of the annual pig
There is no such thing as the previous ups and downs
Time stood still
Waiting for the year to come
The return date of the wanderer
Amid the honking of the train
Getting closer and closer...