There sprawled a wyrm of icing
Stretching lengths of coils chill,
On its breath a storm enticing,
to crawl beneath the stony hill.                                                
Then came the cold of winter's bite,
To lay upon a heavy frost,
That caused the wind to blow in spite
And howl like souls long lost.

Now all the land lay covered,
Buried in cold white snow;
While overhead there hovered
Gray clouds lying low.

This icy wyrm had come to stay;
The eternal storm had broke at last.
Now in terror the people lay,
Condemning summer to the past.
Their world is frozen, cold and dark;
Their future just as pale and bleak.
No light is there, no fire spark—-
It preys upon the weak...

Death comes slowly creeping
Though they try to fight.
Cold forever always seeping
With the wyrm at night.

But stirring in the depths of earth
A creature slowly comes awake;
Bringing a force of terrible worth,
For a battle it has come to make.
Made of molten golden red,
It faced the cold with fire;
Upon the icy chill it fed,
Stoking up its burning ire.

Opening wide its fiery maw
It ate the cold, cold wyrm;
setting forth a melting thaw--
Spring grabbed a hold so firm.

Now the people all came out,
Rejoicing in the warmth and sun;
But seeing the creature, gave a shout
And for the hills did they run.
With a flash of red and gold
The creature made a slow retreat;
Its bones so tired and so old,
Its hunger sated, no more could it eat.

And so the world resumed its course,
Seasons following one another;
No more raging battles of force,
Except for those of the Nature Mother.