I looked upon the brilliant mounds of white,
Whose slopes and peaks tower’d into space so high,
And blankets cover lands so still and bright,
Where no one thrives or even passes by.
The sun, it shines upon these frozen hills,
But in this land the bitter cold prevails,
On peaks of white the Earth, it does stand still,
And silence uncovers their small details.
The air, inert, dispels one’s dreary thoughts,
And opens up one’s mind so dead and gone,
And birds compared to them are merely dots,
And winter here, it does go on and on.

These mountain ranges spread across the land,
From North to South to East and West they span.