In whirlwind of winter night,
a heart keeps warm and glowing bright.
Who holds this light, I ask of you?
That traveled on and greater grew,
in amber-white and silver-blue?
I ask of you: who holds this light,
in whirlwind of frosty night,
however dim, however bright.
Who holds this light, nobody knows…
only that it stronger grows.
Yet weak or strong, the smallest flame
can light the darkness just the same.