Fill up the barrels and store them away,
Then wait, wait for a windier day.
Wax the bottles, seal them tight,
For the south wind that soothes, for the north wind that bites.
How does this fine wine taste to the tongue?
As 'Mondstadt' to the ear: like a sweet dream of freedom.
And what are the fruits that went into the brew?
An explorer's courage, a love tender and true.
A defender's will, strong as yesteryear,
Joining the thousand winds in a song of good cheer,
Turning sour into sweet, bitter notes fade away,
As we wait, wait for a windier day.
Pray tell, what treasure does this barrel hold?
Tis wheat's greatest triumph, the true liquid gold.
As it flows from the keg, what sound drifts by?
Wind chimes in the boundless, immemorial sky.
We raise up our glasses, and voices in song,
As we wait, wait for the wind to sing along.
Where do we turn once the thousand winds take flight?
To the tales of the lyre, to the sweet dream of tonight.