Snow flows over a quiet village；
Doves fly across a gloomy sky.
Two names are carved deep on a birch；
They promised to stay in love all their life.
One day war broke out in their homeland.
The lad picked up a gun to go to the front.
“Don‘t worry for me，sweetheart.”
“Wait for me in the birch wood.”he said.
The bad news came at the other afternoon.
Her love laid down his life on the battlefield.
Quietly she came to the birch wood，
waiting there each day on tiptoe.
She said he‘d just lost his way in the land far away.
Surely he would come to the birch wood someday.
Doves are still flying across the same gloomy sky
Who would prove those graveless love and lives？
Snow kept falling over the village，quiet as ever.
And the young hid themselves behind the birch wood.
The long road is coming to its close.
Snow-white hair flew over the once young face.
She often heard his whisper over her pillow，
“Come，sweetheart，come to the birch wood”
Over her deathbed she murmured，
“I am coming，wait for me in the birch wood.”