Snowstorm Call - Helengard

The wind bends the pines,

Till the wet ground.

Our Springs

Are buried in it

Black branches are singing as arrows above my head,

Birds that are flying far away, are calling us for the

long journey with them

How many roads are crossed on my grey way

So don’t search for me, don’t wait for me and don’t

call me anymore.

The woods will cast a shadow on the ground,

Of a naked black thicket

The new day isn’t coming

For the fallen in battle.

The winds rolled the Sun down from the hill,

Enfolded by snow

Silvery canopies of grove and woods,

Are standing between us.

Wings of a slowly howling snowstorm,

Will flap above my head

Like snowflakes that protect a path,

Calling me with voices.

And don’t call for me,

By whispering under our memories,

And don’t search for me,

With a scream in heart and sorrow

And don’t tarry for me,

With the faithfulness of birds,

Names of the warriors,

Are now becoming a tale.