I call forth the cold
The coming signs of winter
Black hands raised to the sky
Silhouettes of trees with no more leaves
Growing on their long lean twigs
Soul mirrors showing me
A shadowed face
Waters – frozen and rugged, unmoved
Cloth, white, is falling
Snow from the sky
Hiding the face of the earth
Thousand daggers piercing my skin
Winds from the north, alone in the skies
I call forth the cold
The coming signs of winter
Ravens seem to be the only
Life beside me – suddenly
They cover my sight to the horizon
Blood becomes ice
Flesh becomes rock
I call forth the cold
The coming signs of winter
Я вызываю холод....
Я ощущаю приход зимы.
Словно чёрные руки, поднятые до небес,
Силуэты деревьев без листьев.
С их скудными длинными ветвями.
Зеркало души, показывающее мне
Лицо в полумраке,
Это застывшая, неподвижная вода
Словно белая ткань....
Падает снег с неба,
Сокрывая лицо земли.
Тысяча кинжалов, проникающих в мою кожу,
- Это ветра севера. Могущество в небесах.
Я вызываю холод.
Я ощущаю приход зимы.
Вороны - единственная жизнь около меня.
Внезапно эти птицы открывают вид к горизонту.
И кровь становится льдом.
Плоть становится скалой.
Я вызываю холод.
И ощущаю приход зимы.
I Call Forth The Cold
The COMING SIGNS OF WINTER
Black Hands Raised To The Sky
Silhouettes of Trees With No More Leaves
Growing On Their Long Lean Twigs
Soul Mirrors Showing Me
A Shadowed Face.
Waters - Frozen and Rugged, Unmoved
Cloth, White, Is Falling
Snow from the Sky
Hiding The Face of the Earth
Thousand Daggers Piercing My Skin
Winds from the North, Alone In The Skies
I Call Forth The Cold
The COMING SIGNS OF WINTER
Ravens Seem to Be The Only
Life Beside Me - Suddenly
THEY COVER MY SIGHT TO THE HORIZON
Blood Becomes Ice.
Flesh Becomes Rock
I Call Forth The Cold
The COMING SIGNS OF WINTER
I call cold ....
I feel the arrival of winter.
Like black hands raised to heaven,
Silhouettes of trees without leaves.
With their scant long branches.
Soul mirror showing me
Face in twilight
It is frozen, fixed water
Like a white fabric ....
Snow falls from the sky
Hiding the face of the earth.
Thousand daggers penetrating my skin,
- This is the wind of the North. Power in heaven.
I call cold.
I feel the arrival of winter.
The crows are the only life near me.
Suddenly, these birds open the view to the horizon.
And blood becomes ice.
The flesh becomes rock.
I call cold.
And I feel the arrival of winter.