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 ought 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,
Every 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.

It’s the timeless sleep;
Hush overwrites every line,
Dull and 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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