The window glass cools my hand,

From shadows I watch the night.

No fire will stay in my land —

I don’t know the reason why.

To hold it — rage will ignite,

It burns me with scorn like a foe.

It never forgives what’s not right —

Too dear is the freedom it knows.

My wandering flame,

Lost without trace,

In a far-off place,

Gossiping wind now and then

Brings bitter smoke again.

My wandering flame —

It shines so bright, but not here,

It warms so deep, but not for us.

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?

I burn through matches — send a sign,

To be a lighthouse on its way.

Perhaps it cooled, perhaps it’s tired,

And lost the road back yesterday.

Of course, I was not in the right —

I played a foolish game with flame.

I’ll load dry logs into the grate —

This night, to burn and grieve his name.

My wandering flame,

Lost without trace,

In a far-off place,

Gossiping wind now and then

Brings bitter smoke again.

My wandering flame —

It shines so bright, but not here,

It warms so deep, but not for us.

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?

Is it not that, close behind,

Walks my frozen laugh?