A furious wind howls on the other side,
with a bloodthirsty wolf’s chilling cry.
Cursed be the man, alone to bide,
by a fireplace, under such a sky!
If only you were here, my heart, my light,
to hold you close in this cherished hour—
with kisses, stories, and caresses slight,
the time would vanish, robbed of its power.
I’d play with your soft, flowing hair,
and tease beneath your arms so sweet,
then hide in your chest without a care,
driving you mad with jokes and heat.
The Devil, Fate, or maybe God’s hand,
intervene and keep us far apart— damn it all!
I puff on a cigarette, empty and bland,
by a fireplace, in this bitter squall.
