O’er a sheer drop, up against the void, along the very border,
I am lashing wayward horses with a horsewhip, urging on them:
Getting somehow out of air, gulping wind and gobbling fog, I’m
Sensing in a fatal rapture: I’m a goner, I’m a goner!

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
Don’t obey a taut whip! Beg you, don’t!
Yet that the horses should have fallen so unruly to me,
Short of time to live up, coming short with the song...

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...

Should I die, a gale will sweep me off the hand flat like a feather,
And the sleigh will drag me, racing by a snow plain at the daybreak.
Don’t you tear along, my horses, change to an unhurried canter!
Just a little but prolong the journey to the final haven!

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
Heed you neither a whip nor a thong.
Yet that the horses should have fallen so unruly to me,
Short of time to live up, coming short with the song......

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...

We’re on time: you’re never late to pay a visit to the Savior;
Why are angels chanting up there with dispraising, angry yelling?
If it is a harness bell that’s choking in a bitter wailing?
If it’s I who’s urging horses to pull up this headlong sleighing?

Do slow down a little, horses! Do slow down just a bit!
I beseech you to not fly headlong!
Yet that the horses should have fallen so unruly to me,
Since there’s no time to live, at least to finish the song...

I will water my steeds, I will finish the song,
I will stand just a bit At the back of beyond...