Kin! My kin!
Through the time’s orb I look at your shade,
Through a maternal voice, in the furious air.
Kin, my kin!
Having given my life, mouldered away in the years flame,
You’re asleep in the dream womb under an ashen plaid.
Kin, my kin!
I’ll pass through the world in quest of your path,
Going through years to the origin of light.
My house is hidden in oppressive dreams’ trap,
Where one can’t disappear or run with a wind gait,
Where my brethren’s dusk light is still alive,
On my native heath, find an answer I strive.
In the hills’ faces the City of Dreams sleeps.
In the cradle of dreams –
The divine bed.
Without looking in a whirlpool of nowadays,
My soul longs for departure, once, never again,
Afar, where the gleaming fire of my land burns,
Being still alive!
I won’t return!
Oh, falcon-wind, yeah, Windan-wind,
Catch me and carry with thy pinion,
Yeah, with thy pennon carry me
To my dad and mam’s window.
Carry me to my brer and sister.
O’er the thick fields of the clouds
Rush with thy motley wings
Beyond the clouds, and from there flit.
Fly o’er the mounts, o’er the brooks,
And also o’er the green garths.
Call on thy free land of sweet home
With the pathway of Old Sol!
Through the time’s orb I look at your shade,
Kin, my kin!
Having given my life, mouldered away in the years flame,
You’re asleep in the dream womb under an ashen plaid.
Kin, my kin!
I’ll pass through the world in quest of your path,
Going through years to the origin of light.
My house is hidden in oppressive dreams’ trap,
Where one can’t disappear or run with a wind gait,
Where my brethren’s dusk light is still alive,
On my native heath, find an answer I strive.
In the hills’ faces the City of Dreams sleeps.
In the cradle of dreams –
The divine bed.
Without looking in a whirlpool of nowadays,
My soul longs for departure, once, never again,
Afar, where the gleaming fire of my land burns,
Being still alive!
I won’t return!
Oh, falcon-wind, yeah, Windan-wind,
Catch me and carry with thy pinion,
Yeah, with thy pennon carry me
To my dad and mam’s window.
Carry me to my brer and sister.
O’er the thick fields of the clouds
Rush with thy motley wings
Beyond the clouds, and from there flit.
Fly o’er the mounts, o’er the brooks,
And also o’er the green garths.
Call on thy free land of sweet home
With the pathway of Old Sol!
Lyrics: Masha "Scream", translation into English by Sergey AR Pavlov, Artwork: Gyula Havancsák
