|
The white bird |
|
(the white bird for her comes) |
|
calls out for her |
|
thin tundra veils |
|
(the ice is forming) |
|
permafrost earth |
|
Grey stone |
|
(there when it called) |
|
retreating wind |
|
the moor calls |
|
(follows you back here) |
|
desolation zone |
|
A cutting air |
|
(like a friend of yore) |
|
finds the cracks |
|
in my outer layer |
|
(sadly wraps around) |
|
to slip inside |
|
The black bird |
|
(left the ties of old) |
|
answers her |
|
my tundra veil |
|
(we are strong, we are sound, we go) |
|
permafrost earth |
|
The night bird comes for me |
|
from kingdom laced with frost |
|
ensconced in earth it stays |
|
we go |
|
ensconced it stays |
|
we hardly know, we hardly thought, we go |
