Even if the sky is limned in a dull tincture,
Even if the stars were palled from sight,
Even if I began to feel numb from the frostbites and chills,
I will wait for you.

Under the luminescence of the prosaically hoary lanterns,
My feet dug up the fresh soft, white pieces of frozen water sprawled on the winding footpath,
My presence quivered from the arctice breeze of deep icy...