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Ahh, Dance through the cold shadows of Pan |
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as tears fall from heaven... |
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once I had hold the rarest rose, |
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But, that is now forgotten with time... |
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Among the tree's I wandered, |
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To feel the embrace of etemal eclipse |
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as my candle bums out, |
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-And we must make the myths... |
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Dark is the moon at harvest, |
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the nightly mist approaches |
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through the forlorned marshes, |
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-Then darkness has now been achieved... |
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"Crush your earthly virtnes, |
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As I stumbled through snow and frost |
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my feeble heart is longing for the wood, |
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where all dark cast a shadow...." |
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It's pale morrow landscape, |
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Has now risen through the bleak night |
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over the moors and mountains, |
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Flies the hunting ravens..., searching, |
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Dance through the cold shadows of Pan, |
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As tears fall from heaven, |
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Then, once I had hold the rarest rose... |
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Frozen is my pagan heart, |
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And once again the dawn is here |
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hear the sound of silence, |
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In these trees.... |
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Are my gallows.... |
