We have dreamed a winding river under the sky in the summer night.
When the wind came you sang to me the silent night.
The song was flowing in my sorrow and in the words with your smile.

In the air was the beauty…a winding singing river.
Roses and envelops were hard to reach.
In it the sorrow is me.

In the frozen coldness the winter had come.
Started was the fireplace and the bell were you in the snow.
You had sung all your songs so the end is coming.

But you had never gone for I have never come.
Between come and go you left...a beautiful memory.