At the feet of the great mountain,
There lays the wood shrouded in mist,
The forest of charmes where, laid on his stone,
Sings the daemon of poetry...
Taranis wakes and yawns
And in the darkening dawn
A raven sweeps towards the storm...
Where the crystal black lake reflects
The golden cloak of autumn,
There drinks the tired wild boar
While the spiritowls call...
