My country’s not a country, it’s winter,
my garden’s not a garden, it’s a vast plain,
my road is no road – it’s the snow!
My country’s not a country – it’s winter!
A ceremony all in white
where snow marries wind,
in this blizzard-land
my father built a house
and I’m going to honour
his ways, his example…
My guest room will be where
you return, season by season
and you’ll build too – right beside it.
My refrain’s no refrain, it’s a gust of wind,
My house isn’t mine – it’s the winter chill’s!
My country’s not a country – it’s winter!
All around my solitary land
I cry out before the silence,
to everyone on earth:
My house is yours, too.
Inside four walls of ice
with time and space
I make the fire, and a place
for People of the Horizon
– and these people are of my people.
My country’s not a country, it’s winter,
my garden’s not a garden, it’s the vast plain,
my road is no road – it’s the snow!
My country’s not a country – it’s winter!
My country’s no country but the contrary
of country – neither land nor nation,
my song’s not a song – it’s my life!
And for you I wish to master these winters!
