The edge of frost surrounds the landscape
Creeps into the depth of the forest
The first frozen fallen leaf of autumn
His path continues among the trees
The forest slopes ever deeper
A bottomless like funnel
Slowly winding down a decayed alley
A destitute, forlorn knight
His books are the hens of old trees
Daily he goes round the traps set
Many are his pale complexion
Colored with red blood
But hidden under the tuft of hair and beard - a hermit
Thick trees, underrooted
Among the bushes a visible hut
A broken window, a broken chimney
Still inhabited by a hermit
Silently gray, do not let the frost enter you
Not aware of anything at all
Let go, as the wind lays your heart
Suddenly curse Christ:
"The beast has already completely torn the people down
Turned away from nature, they have rejected creepiness
They have always lost the feeling
Êa tree, child, perceive nature"
He grabs a small piece of meat
SuÚnù flesh of forest beasts gnaw with teeth
Clapped in primordial blacks
Inhales ooze, ravages of frost