A keresés eredménye

Through the Eyes of the Raven

I float on black clouds and look into a barren valley
where leafless trees stand rigid in uninhabited leas.
 
Around grey mountains I wander with glossy black
plumage
and rest a moment on an ice-covered rock face.
 
Into dead moors I screech, my cry travelling through the rotten swamp.
It cuts through wisps of fog, bringing to
long-decaying ears
and singing of dead forest paths a song of the dead choir of ravens.
 
Scourged by icy winds...
With bitter frost in its skin...
Poisoned by rotten roots...
the world trembles before the night.
 
Behold the world through the eyes of the raven.
Sharpen the gaze and recognize the glory.
 
With whipping waves,
smothered by a cloak of ashes,
in smoking mountains of fire,
the world trembles before the night.
 
Dying celestial bodies fall heavily into the darkness.
Only my plumage remains enthroned in the storm-whipped loneliness.
 
Since the beginning of days I've been singing their death song.
The world carries my cries to the grave, which lies pitifully in ashes.
 
I discover pride here, feel no stirring within me
as it lies painfully dying, lamenting because I was never a part of it.
 
Behold the world through the eyes of the raven.
Sharpen the gaze and look at...nothing.