When the night, takes its place
and dark cold is getting strong
there are echoes among the trees
There's a plain, near that woods
and the rivers floating by,
its water is full of blood
From the plains, coming noise
the noise of thousand man
whose dying painfully
Smell of blood, taste of flesh
and never ending scream
thick presence of the death
Everything is fading in the air
with lamentation of the fallen
Everything is coming to the end
hear lamentation of the fallen
