My way up the hill
And there is no sadness in that,
No joy,
And what wouldn't happen
I have to go and go.
There is nothing more shameful than sin,
Than a sign of weakness.
There is no affliction worse,
Than a stop on the way.
My heart beats in my chest,
Like a clock measuring moments.
Clockwork clock,
That regularly go until the time.
The wind sings songs.
The wind plays military marches
And not visible in the fog
Cool the top of the mountain.