Just before days advance of the cold snowy winter
Autumn's early sunset colors skyline in crimson.
I have dreams of the one, whom I loved in the past,
I am hearing the music, under which we have danced.  

I am dreaming about the youth of the yore,
I have dreams of first love, I am dreaming of her.
I have dreams of first kiss, and forgotten sweet pain,
Dejavu resurrecting comes to heart back again.

Fly to South wild birds to escape winter's terror,
Cleaving sky by flock's wedge, as the tip of an arrow,
And I follow the birds, flying back to my youth,
Reuniting with Spring, leaving realm of dark truth.