In the cold fields of tundra
And coniferous forest
Pine-trees wailing for ages
When the sea is the sorest

But this sea is not tropic
This is not tender land
It is harsh and so perfect
My lost heaven, last stand

It's agressive for people
Which are living light-hearted
It's abode for a sorrow
Where the wind had been started

It will blow off the spring
Then gone summer and autumn
After all this allusion
Winter won't be forgotten

This is not place like others
It is calm and so silent
Near crackling of a fire
I will find my own island

Semi-darkness near bedroom
Modest house is sooty
There's no place around
You can look at such beauty