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von Arkona

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What kind of thoughts kept the pitch in the woods that night,
Gray swirls reeling over the cover of human vanity?
And in the darkness of the night anxious eyes hid,
Contemplating the world full of bad, a strange emptiness.
Disappeared into the darkness, leaving a veil in the snow
Under retributioning wind and alluring calls of the wilderness,
Permanent escape from the hungry herd of gray!
Only games with death and murmur of tired souls.


Woe bound with fetters.
Light treated the turtledove
in front of the window.
My gaze in the mansion,
In the courtyard wings were wounded.
It saddens
I bet the bird before your window got caught.

Woe seized in the night.
The heart′s timid.
Opal force of Yar-Fire.
Auburn dew on the flowing river
In nowhere the pain is stored.
Mother Tosca, let me go!

Swa! Spread Your Wings
Over the road of mortal life!
Help me return to reality
From the dreams of my forgetfulness.
Swa! Hear my voice!
Help me wake up from sleep.
From an empty pitch of darkness
And guide me back home!

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