The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land

Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:

A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,

But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking

He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise

In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise

He's chained forever to a world that's departed

It's not enough, it's not enough

His blood has frozen