The calling wind on my face
Waving from the summoning of giants
That heals my soul
The virile fragrance of alpine tor
The blowing breath of this fold
That dreams me
Pervading every single nook of existence
Veidon anatlâ
Trireinos koilon monis pantos
Volevos kaion moricus
Ni têrsos tenkos sves nâus-anatia
In litaviâ votno-ûrâ
Mê anatlô
Qe tebô lama deivos skver-ollos
[English translation:]
Mumbling breath
Flowing through the loins of my pain
Plashing at the havens
Of homeless sailors
Mooring their soulships at the urgrounds shore
I breathe in
And touch the hand of the all-pervading
Laden with the burden of this life
The barque sails through endless waters
Deep and dark
Yet gestated pristinely and free
Escorting to the biding warmth
Of the womb
“I’m a bard do you not vouchsafe my secrets to slaves
I am a guide a judge if you sow you will labour”
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