I ride through the birkwood,
Passing snowbanks on every corner.
Day's end light blinds me.
Holiday joy turns bittersweet in my eyes,
And my lips are as dry as the air.
A fellow stranger sits by me....
Does he know he shares my name?
...Oh well, I hear a cawing:
From the window I see a hundred crows,
Circling the frozen river....
Friends laugh in the courtyard,
But I will be lonely tomorrow.