Hard and cold the North Wind blows.
Wherever he goes, he casts a blight.
Sweeping down from frosted mountains,
Descending now to freeze and bite.

Lovely is the swift South Wind,
Bringing blessings where she goes.
Fair is the South Wind, yet I must journey
To where the South Wind never blows.

Crisp and cool is the East Wind;
Exhilaration in every breeze.
But I must travel away from where
The East Wind rustles in the trees.

Warm and merry is the West Wind,
Dancing, dancing in the grass.
I must take the path away from
Where the West Wind warmly laughs.

I go now to face the North Wind;
Face and conquer the coming strife.
I must climb the frosted mountains
If I am to save their lives.