On the cold bridge of grey stones
Stood the old man in his grey robe
Opening his oak barrels
Pouring them to the river
So began the pouring
Light frozen
Down snowing
Light was weakening
Grey was the curtain
Wide were the shores
Of the grey and green seas
It was final
Sobre a ponte fria de pedras cinzentas
Situou-se o ancião em seu manto cinzento
Abrindo seus barris de carvalho
Despejando-os no rio
Então começou a despejar
Luz gélida
Caindo a neve
A luz estava enfraquecendo
Cinzas eram as cortinas
Longas eram as margens
Do cinza e verdes mares
Era final
