In the dire obscurity of another dark February
There lowers a fog of uncertainty
On a thin gasp of wind known only to me

My shivering sigh spreads a shadow far and wide
The frigid leaden sky remains immobile, petrified
I attempt to seek out the source
Of this ancient curse by bad-tempered Gods
Of how the Moon keeps on its course
Without being stopped by the cries of dogs

Oh my love, I am freezing in my marble dressing gown
Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down

As this hesitant haze, it deepens
Under a blanket of doubt, I've been sleeping
Here, our deterioration begins
Where the tears that are wept are kept for safe-keeping

They say it will come to an end
Then all things will begin again
In this eggshell atmosphere, which is so very thin
20 thousand million copper needles begin vibrating

My frigidity has been eclipsed by the severity of my trembling lips
Although I locked my heart at dusk
I will open it again when the light comes in

Oh my love, I'm freezing in my marble dressing gown.
Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down.