1. Des Nachtens Suss Gedone

(инструментал)

2. Somnium Obmutum

Aumquam orem dulcem obliviscor de ea somniare non cassavi.
Sed quod pulchrior et desiderandios illa somnia sunt ea major tristia mea cum expergiscor.
Tamen desiderio noctes illam dulces sed dolorosas,
ut regno somnii amorem meum osculis teneris tegere et suun capillium aureum permulcere.
Conamen meae mentis spem tepirire interiret per scientia oprimeta.
Devoratus per somnium obmutitum, lugen plenus desiderio.

As the lorn nightingales' melodious pain,
dies away through the dusk-impregnated air a sweet,
forgiving silence, delivers me from daily despair.

Dreams of sweetest emotion touch my heart
and smother my daily surpresses cries,
while a vision of beauty,
pure and dear inspires me with a glimpse of paradise.

Wandering like a vagabund, expelled from the joys of men.
Barred from the pleasure of company I solitary roam the night.

How should I ever summon my courage,
when the bitter gale of failure dominates my heart.
How should I ever enjoy the glare of the morning,
when with the fading of the shadows shelter departs.

As the moon kisses the sea and casts it's glitter
on the water and majestically silence engulfes the lands,
a dream woven of bitterness,
joy and desire stealthfully embraces my solitary heart.

Horis lucis simplex
crescere, et somniator.
Repudiatur nam sensus
ab simplice redeor.

Through scies of charming beauty, up to the stars devine,
my mind lifts up enchanted, casts of all earthly chains.
Subdued by nights sensation, engulfed by sweet temptation
I kiss the seals of slumber and let my spirit dream.

Doubtful thoughts pull back my heart.
The flame of delight chases to burn.

For every smile shall wither, the hopeful laughter fade,
the cup of joys illusions bashed from the craving lips.
And as all hopes are shattered, the last of passions scattered,
the gale of bitter failure is all that shall remain.

Cursed by my creator and the spark of existence, so unvoluntary bestowed.
Come forth spirits of my solitary past, emotions of havok and destruction be unleashed.

I wonder if I ever could regain the virtues I have cast off long ago.

I wonder if my eyes will ever catch a token of the sympathy I still crave.

And all emotion of my former days dilute.
For I shall learn how to live with the truth.
Soon I shall strip off the boundaries of hope.

For a caring soul.

Der fluchtig Vergnugungen mude, der Tag voller qualvollem frust.

Wann mag der einst wohlvertraut friede, endlich wieder erfullen die Brust.
Und als der guldnen Sterne Glanz verging und des Morgens Rot
am Himmel hing da ward des Nachtens Freud und Bluck
zerstoben ein neuer jamervoller Tag erhoben.

Wohin verflogen der Stunden Zeit wohin
des Nachts verhullnd Barmherzigkeit.

So flieht mein Sinn dem Bimmel bleich in
Trubsinn schwer an Kummer reich.

3. As Autumn Calls

(инструментал)

4. Ode To Solitude

Wandering restless through the hillside on a cold
December day, my solitary journey guided only
by the pilgrims high in the sky.
Fog invades the lands blocking the last rays
of the dying sun and a veil of mist and
serenity gracefully covers the night.

The shadowy trees of the forest,
once imbued with beauty and life
now twisted and eternally frozen
by a shroud of snow and ice.

As the glow of the dawning sun vanishes
in the witherd sky my eyes wander up through
the whispering winds and watch the glare of the stars dilute.

Exposed to the frost of the icy winds my bittered soul still rejoys.

As the howl of the wind enchants me
more than the sweetest sounding human voice.

Freed from mens insanity I feel my grief
stricken heart still burn bracing my soul
through night's loneliness I sence a glimpse of shelter return.

Burdend with the insight of my loneliness
I continue my journey through this night.

Passed have the times when the glimmer of
hope filled my heart with gentle delight.

All the years that the currents of fortune have
planted the seeds of my grief my eyes have
been fooled by the masks of joy,
my desperate hopes deceived.

So let us now gather the harvest of the past solitary days.

And bath our peace craving eyes in sin's magnificent grace.

The night shall pass and a cold morning breeze shall
obscure the traces of my pittyful existence.
For not a stone shall mark the place where
silence embraced me and guided my cheerful
soul into the charm of everlasting solitude.