Gazing at the landscape, after all you'll find my fellows

there, on the tranquil traces of my white, clear land. No need to fear

opening the gates to travel, it comes so nearly

to make you feel the glorious side

Feeling free, diving into times you'll never forget, hunger for

freedom, in the silence of wintery nights, spirits herald. The wind comes

The light looses significance, throughout the night

Owl singing the dead song inside the forest of dusk uncontrolled desire rising

from above the heart strength is near to haunt you

Coming to touch your soul. Heed to the harmonious song of wise owl.

All fear fading away. By hearing the hoarse cry.

Take a look as the mighty wind will bring the flood washing your pain

takes your sorrow to far away face of the old trees glorifying the land

Calls to spirits made before you time for joining with the long breeze of day

when the wind scars the bleached faces, of the snowy land,

cold scent of the wind, brings the truth from behind different sides.

Hear them calling for precious spirits to fly dreaming the truth

sets your soul free takes your body once breathing the death surrounds you