How pure is the air I breathe
On this early Winter night
What a stainless landscape I contemplate
Twinkling stars like myriads of ice drops
Held in the crystalline darkness
They watch over my lonely path
Like guardian deities of old
Noble
Noble wolf
Boldly alone
Wild minstrel of the full moon am I!
The furtive owls are my companions
They sing along with me:
"How can the vision of this snow-veiled realm
Bring such a warmth to the heart?"
Chief of the hunter tribes
The grim mountain is my throne
This lunar song of mine
Paves the way for the dawn to come