2019.01.09.
In seventh moon (Desîhra's diary - Chapter III)
In the seventh moon I threw my reflection once again in the riverIt did not keep it...
In the seventh moon, blood flowed like this stream in every pure tint
And did not want to get cold...
Where was your sword, companion of my ways
When the battle cry sounded?
Where was your voice
When we sang our songs on fires?
We were children of a young kingdom that died
Children of the morning, but we loved the night
And in the simple jugs of wine
So clear
So pure
Were all your dreams just escape?
Have you never searched for the dream?
Corrections are always welcome.