---

in some former times of hope

whereon dead fields of stonern bones

where afterthen green grasses grew

I, the wisdom got to know

A wanderer by himself alone

is united with the stones

staring at the moving sky

feels his time has come to say:

"will you ever lead my child

to your forces of the wild?

are you really proud to see

the evil things you do to me?"

and then the hate raven flies

proudly towards the sky

to see beneath his wings

all the people die