So it happened - men are gone,
They dropped the sowings before their time.
They are no longer seen from the windows,
Disappeared into the dust of the road.

The grains are flowing from the ears,
They are the tears of ungathered crops.
And the cold winds flew nimbly
true the cracks.

We are waiting for you, make the horses hurry.
Good luck, good luck, good luck,
Let the tailwinds not beating you, but cares you.
Then quickly come back.
Willows weeping for you,
And without your smile the ashes wither and turn pale.

We live in tall towers,
No one is in those buildings allowed,
Loneliness and longing have setlled
instead of you in those houses.

And the freshness and charm are now lost,
The whiteness of the unworn clothes.
Your old songs became boring
and even annoying.

We are waiting for you, make the horses hurry.
Good luck, good luck, good luck,
Let the tailwinds not beating you, but cares you.
Then quickly come back.
Willows weeping for you,
And without your smile the ashes wither and turn pale.

The pain hurts still the same,
And every day sounds an incessant
old wailing strain
Echo of ancient prays.

We will meet you on foot or ahorseback,
Tired, hurt, anyway.
Only not by the void interred
And by the hunch of that.

We are waiting for you, make the horses hurry.
Good luck, good luck, good luck,
Let the tailwinds not beating you, but cares you.
Then quickly come back.
Willows weeping for you,
And without your smile the ashes wither and turn pale.