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Through the dark night silent song fly in

With an antique story enweaved

Old man's voice only whispering with the Wind

As string of lute shiver.



In olden days happened

Those dark gods sent to man a gift

Which nobody understand, which nobody want

Gift really singular, sovereign.



Long since in dust turned

Last who knew it and dreamt of it

Northern winds to its southern brothers

Only sings and blows of him.



Through barren hallway of ruined castles

In deep woods, in diadems of trees

Sounds woeful song of oblivion

About what was and might be



Withheld was gift, oblivion is

Voice shivers as string of lute

Elves sings about man who were scorn

With Blessing of intellect to its children

Only gales, rock and deep woods know....



I am going out of the silver shadows, sitting down dazed under the tree, 

I see stark land, empty souls, silence fall around. 

Lad and gal hold on to their arms and go away through bloody dew, do you hear?