I step with bare feet on this cold, icy snow.
You think - I'm crazy? No, I'm not.
This way my heart do not triumph over the reason
And let my thought and mind relax a lot.

I'm eating snowflakes and look to the reflection
Of cloud, frozen like a sad cross, oh boy!
O Lord, please, do not play with my imagination!
Do not drive me away from race to joy!

My folly is my air, you'd better know!
With dignity my heart triumph will meet.
You will not wait me long - I'm coming here.
I'll pass the seventh floor and will enjoy, indeed!

The solitude is not my lifestyle, saying clear.
For loving heart it is a grave offence.
I do not need to feel a false euphoria,
I'm on my very last jump over heaven's fence.