All roads lead to you.
Freezing, the wind sweeps the bare land,
its breath is grazing fir and field.
Now no one is to leave his stand,
sleepless stand weapon, man and shield.
Above us, blank disc of the moon
strews its wan light upon dark screen.
All animals find home now soon;
all our wishes stilled, serene.
Smiling, we think of hearth and heat,
lamp's flare and opened door;
sitting beside you, love to read
the olden lines to you once more;
feeling your dear hands once again
wave tenderly across our face;
you bow to us like mothers then,
see your big child in sleep's embrace.
It is your life which is our guide,
your love enfolds us through and through;
your blood which leads us to abide
beyond all death to be with you;
it is your hope, your devout plea -
that gives sense to our ado.
Whatever roads we'll live to see:
All roads lead to you!
New Year's Eve 1941