In the Snow

From where is the bell tolling?

There is no path through the mountains,

Their peaks, they cast us down, falling,

Falling through thin wintery air.

There is no path through the mountains,

They make a mockery of men

Falling through thin wintery air

As the condor circles, calling.

They make a mockery of men

Their peaks, they cast us down, falling,

As the condor circles, calling

From where the bell is tolling.