The ravens lounging on the trees nearby
Are croaking ugly, ominously, and the coyote howles in the prime of night
The pre-winter wind sings its evil song, whirlwinds chase thorns in the field, together with the bitter cold, and frost
Alas, the frigid air does not calm nor cease the ardent flames 
And with a weep and like an iron ball imprinted
Shattering your bones and burning deep inside
The sorrow crushes your heart 
The infection of anguish spreading throughout your whole body, tearing bone and flesh alike