The 3rd And The Mortal
The Meadow
In a meadow I have vanished
Between oaks and daisies
And the old and beloved grasshoppers
Sounds that embrace me
The wind chases the fragrance of morning
My days of obey

I breathe in the book all I'll ever be:
Out, floating, touching the yellow blood-flowers
To the beat of my, of my whisper

Shall I ever rise above
Make a detachment
So that the tweaks crack and the growing stocks
Get bowled up by the ruins?
The strength, the strength of this moment
Is like morning dew, morning dew
Drops that filled green veins like crystal-clear blood
And I wait all day who slept
In the meadow tonight
This cold night