Wind of North by Tam Greenhill (Natalia Novikova) Translated by Yury Nesterenko Bitter wind of North, Sing to me songs of my home Which I owe to recall. At dawn we'll go forth Into the grayish sky dome, To the Destiny Hall. Yet the Steeds of the End Crush the ice-covered land At the doorstep in wait for the last trumpet call. In oblivion Heather will hide, like a scar, Any trace of our trails. Who's believing in Us, knights of the fallen star From prohibited tales? They'll commit to the flames Our poems and names, But we'll make them recall us by their midnight wails. Just a flung off word Will smash the peace of the land And the warmth of a heart. Like a glass, the world Under the merciless hand Will be broken apart. Slaves of gods of disgrace Laugh in our face, At the hands of unskillful ones dying is hard. The untimely sleep, Line is rewritten by line, Hush is sticky as slime. Last of us will keep Lie like the bane in the wine - Our gift from the clime. The sunrise hits the glass, No more time's left for us - To the Hall we must go, and we'll be in time. Original song: text mp3
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