Strange, when the fog descends!
Every thorn and stone feels bare,
No tree can see another —
Each stands alone in the air.
The world was full of friends once,
When my life was fair and bright;
But now that the fog has fallen,
They’ve all vanished from sight.
Truly, he’s not wise at all,
The one who’s never known the dark,
Who silently and unwillingly
Has stayed apart from every spark.
Strange, when the fog descends!
To live is to be desolate.
No one truly knows another,
Each walks alone with fate.
