Let winter come, let this summer end,
Signs of salvation, a wreckage from homesickness in my heart,
Oh, how beautifully you used to be, the sharp cold in my land,
Forced migration, a new page, pure white.
Years have passed without you,
No wealth, no possessions, all transient,
Hopelessness, that’s the true destitution,
My homeland remains in the distance,
What news is there from my country,
Hope buds are sprouting from their deep roots.
