Celestial light is squeezed
In January darkness, and the horor is naked,
They look at the eagle aimed in snow,
And the silence is nuded,
The strongholds in the rags,
The broken vault's in fire
As ghost, the trunk choped up and black.
The Son of Land,
Take the ashes and the burnt wood,
The vault raised his night torch.
The vault is protected
For ancient times 'battlefields.
You'll not meet the warrior more majestic
And formidable than the oak's shade.
In distant fires, with scourages, with neigh,
Approaching darkness turns lillac.
The ravens scream above the dead hill.
Hands of the cold ride a fast horse.
The storm, the sun is in black waters.
The lake? Its breast of mine. It is dead.
Above the forest sea the winter rises.