In the dire obscurity of another dark February There lowers a fog of uncertainty On a thin gasp of wind known only to me My shivering sigh spreads a shadow far and wide The frigid leaden sky remains immobile, petrified I attempt to seek out the source Of this ancient curse by bad-tempered Gods Of how the Moon keeps on its course Without being stopped by the cries of dogs Oh my love, I am freezing in my marble dressing gown Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down As this hesitant haze, it deepens Under a blanket of doubt, I've been sleeping Here, our deterioration begins Where the tears that are wept are kept for safe-keeping They say it will come to an end Then all things will begin again In this eggshell atmosphere, which is so very thin 20 thousand million copper needles begin vibrating My frigidity has been eclipsed by the severity of my trembling lips Although I locked my heart at dusk I will open it again when the light comes in Oh my love, I'm freezing in my marble dressing gown. Cold, the oldest season, hold me when the sun goes down.