In these old woods cold winds to blow 
And echoes from the trees are here to show 
Greatness of the forest resting for a years 
Greatness of this land slowly dying 
Sound of horn in the leaves 
Can take us to the past 
To see long lost battles and victories 
That was fought in olden times 

Woods are calling my griefull heart 
To rest in their silence eternaly 

Enchanted by horizon frost is drying my heart 
Cold wind blow in my face 
Snow from the mountains 
Looking on Alma in far distance 
I hear the woods calling my name 

Woods - take me away! 
Woods - close my eyes! 
Woods - take my heart! 
Woods - and let me die!