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.
Who holds this light? Nobody knows,
only that it stronger grows.
Dim or bright, the smallest flame
can light the darkness just the same.
In whirlwind of chilly night, the heart keeps warm and glowing bright.
Who holds this light, I ask of you, that carried forth and greater grew, in burnished gold 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 softer grows.
Yet soft indeed, the smallest flame
can light the darkness just the same.
