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1. Intro


2. Wreath

On the river,
Winds are slowly sailing,
A dry wreath on the water,
Blown to move faster
Its braided rwigs,
Blown to the shores,
And erasing old memories...

A horse is going by on a steppe,
Fire mane,
I lost the serenity,
And the rivers of tears,
A brown horse without a rider,
Going by as an orphan,
Anguish is burning me,
As of young nettles.

Where the flowers grow on fields,
Calling us with their white color,
We got engaged last Spring,
On a bridge near the river,
Promised ourselves to each other,
We dropped wreathes on the water
From our heads.

A horse is going by on the grass,
Black horseshoes,
A flame of sorrow in my heart
Is now burning again.
The horse is going by without a rider,
Its eyes are always looking for him,
I will lament all these nights,
But I will wait for you for centuries.

3. Blizzard Sweeps The Traces

By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces,
The army is moving out by the road of shadows,
Snow is freezing on the cold temples

The morning light will colour the helmets,
Under an azure sky,
Where we exist no longer,
A zephyr will carry you my song,
Of how we gained glory in battle

The feathers of an arrow will quiver,
The sword will glare by blue contour,
Only to bring a fleeting feel of home,
On all these hoary fields

By the scream of a carrion crow, darker than cinders
The warriors move onwards on their new way
By white manes of wild horses,
The blizzard slowly sweeps the traces.

4. Snowstorm Call

The wind bends the pines,
Till the wet ground.
Our Springs
Are buried in it

Black branches are singing as arrows above my head,
Birds that are flying far away, are calling us for the long journey with them
How many roads are crossed on my grey way
So don't search for me, don't wait for me and don't call me anymore.

The woods will cast a shadow on the ground,
Of a naked black thicket
The new day isn't coming
For the fallen in battle.

The winds rolled the Sun down from the hill,
Enfolded by snow
Silvery canopies of grove and woods,
Are standing between us.

Wings of a slowly howling snowstorm,
Will flap above my head
Like snowflakes that protect a path,
Calling me with voices.

And don't call for me,
By whispering under our memories,
And don't search for me,
With a scream in heart and sorrow
And don't tarry for me,
With the faithfulness of birds,
Names of the warriors,
Are now becoming a tale.

5. The Spindle

Evenfall will cloak the hills in darkness and dreams,
Hastily burying us from the eyes of strangers

Remember the nocturne moments of farewell
(The wind is whispering your name to me on my way)
The days of waiting turned into years
(Your voice is like the singing of a creek in the Spring thaw)

The spondle winding in the night
Entwining the threads of fates
Casting a light to the windows
Inviting all the birds;
She moves the spindle wheel,
She softly hums a song
She attempts to make time travel faster,
Calling a new Spring day.

The snow is melting, removing the shroud from the ground,
Like washing out the old traces
Of defeats and victories

But still, there is gleam in the window,
Lighting up the night
(Remember the nightly moments of farewell)
Winding spindles yearn,
Tearing threads of life
(The days of waiting turned into years)

6. Smoke Of War

Horizon touched by black smoke,
Rising in a morning fire
Isn't this what I dreamed about,
Aren't the crows screaming for war to come?

Yonder I will follow the flock of birds,
Only the sun will touch the sky,
A lynx will leave a trace
On snowy light landscapes
In the morning,
With the migration of snow-white clouds,
I'll go hence, and the boughs
Will drop a shawl under my feet

In the new morning, through endless fields,
I'll go away, beyond the horizon
Where the birds are in exile
For black smoke

I'll follow all the storms,
On the way of birds flown away
And their forgotten traces on snow
In the morning, I'll follow a Pallas' cat,
That smelled fresh prey,
I'll onward speed and on my cheekbones
Will snow fall and remain there evermore.

The smoke of black fires
Spreads in the distance closing half of the sky,
The logs of burned dwellings,
Push their bony fingers through the ice.
Above the ash of old gardens,
The winds blow in their impotent rage,
Pain of wrested words,
Grows from the charred sky.

You, my burnt motherland
You are hot ardent ash,
Is this you, on whom I have to sprinkle water...?
Touch... Die but avenge...

7. Arrow

Wind will suddenly dry my tears,
War screams will shatter a fantasy of old plains -
Dispel subtle hushfulness of frozen trees in a field;
Will summon a cloud over this white distance.

Fireflag is proudly moving in the air,
Aboveground after battles

A Kestrel is crying above a deep forest,
Flies over the fields in a narrow arc.
I charm the winds and snows,
To take away an arrow from my heart.

I bewitch a flying arrow,
Don't touch the grass - just fade away
I don't want to see in nocturnal dreams,
That I am touched by sanguine hair.

8. Whisper Of Dry Foliage

The dry foliage riding on wind is whispering,
Calming down the world with its incantations,
Like it was calling again in morning to go
To Battle!

In dreaming depth of blind darkness,
Grey snowstorm fluttering the flags,
Like dead people are loath to go
To Battle!

Snow was falling, on forgotten fields,
And keeping its silence
Snow, please cover the bodies of the fallen in battle,
So for the whole night the wind will sing them songs,
So the grass will wake up in the mornings,
By the new life between forgotten bodies...

Anton "Hvar" Belov ‒ All instruments
Alina "Witch_A" Roberts ‒ Vocals

Thanks to konsolmannen for sending these lyrics.

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