Winter Journey

Down through shivering fog, the moon now
Makes its way across the night,
Soaking melancholy meadows
In a melancholy light.

Down the road through dismal winter,
My quick carriage carries on
And the sleigh-bell's tuneless tinkle
Is a numbing monotone.

Notes familiar in the music
Of the coachman's winding song
Go from debonair carousal
To lamenting lovers' wrong.

Neither hut nor glowing window.
Snow and wasteland now. My eye
Merely marks the ciphered mileposts
Coming close and going by.

Snow and wasteland. But tomorrow
Darling Nina, I'll return
To your hearth and face, forgoing
All my thought to gaze and yearn.

Though the clock's unhurried finger
Strike its circle out anew
Sending home the tardy stranger,
Midnight shall not part us two.

But for now the road is dreary.
Sleep has hushed the coachman's tune.
Tedious, too, the tuneless sleigh-bell.
Fog is masking out the moon.