The harsch biting winternight

Embrace everything in this silent land.

A lonely man is wandering through the snow

With a wooden staff in his hand.



Dressed in old torn grey rags

He tries to keep himself warm.

The icy white long beard

Dances in the hard winterstorm.



His hands which once wielded the steel

Can now barely raise his horn.

Patiently he's searching from house to house

For a meal and a roof over his head.



From the frozen plains he comes

On a journey without destination.

Once a hero- now forgotten

On the edge of death by chill and starvation.

From the frozen plains he comes.

And to the frozen plains he goes.



He gained his pride throughout the wars.

Of the knights he was the best.

He risked his life for his king and queen.

Of all the heroes he was the bravest.

From the frozen plains he comes.

And to the frozen plains he goes.