IIII (translation)

Wolves are howling in the winds, a sudden frost
Freezing, hardening and melting everything in its way.
Up there, in the mountains high,
As winds start to blow, passing through the sheep.
A true brave, sits under the snow drift, listening to the old shepherd words
Telling about all things, wisely teaching him.
The hound and the shepherd's flute throw away the longing
For worldly needs.
Icy north wind roaring outside, sifting the snow
Darkness's crawling in, a black night encloses all.
Slowly the wolf's shaking its neck... and then, suddenly moves!
The wolf's pack, deep from the Wolf's Stars
Crossing instantly black and frosty sky.
Stump, and you, log, I'm asking you... shed the light upon me
Crooked wood straightened through fire,
Enlighten me with all your power and knowledge.
Down the hill into the valley, a high valley,
Where the circle circles, circles and severs
That which outside from that which Is. It Is! Wolf's! And Fir's!