Ah, dance through the cold shadows of Pan
As tears fall from heaven
Once I had hold the rarest rose
But, that is now forgotten with time
Among the tree's I wandered
To feel the embrace of etemal eclipse
As my candle bums out
And we must make the myths
Dark is the moon at harvest
The nightly mist approaches
Through the forlorned marshes
Then darkness has now been achieved
Crush your earthly virtnes
As I stumbled through snow and frost
My feeble heart is longing for the wood
Where all dark cast a shadow
It's pale morrow landscape
Has now risen through the bleak night
Over the moors and mountains
Flies the hunting ravens searching
Dance through the cold shadows of Pan
As tears fall from heaven
Then, once I had hold the rarest rose
Frozen is my pagan heart
And once again the dawn is here
Hear the sound of silence
In these trees
Are my gallows
