The Hero and the Children

Children on the hill watching mountain slopes
Argued, waiting still, over their hopes;
How many more years will the hero travel,
How his paths full of tears will at all unravel.
No good tidings brought for a fourth straight year;
Signs and omens sought like a brother dear.

Then, down he tore Towers of rage set in stone.
Then, long he bore Maiden's chains like his own.
Then...

Weeping in the deep, slept where winds were chilling,
Climbed the stairs steep, never noticed kneeling,
Saw the dance where moon shone, birches black as varnish,
Entered pools washing stone roses of their tarnish,
Found in the haze patterns hidden from others,
Rescued from the blaze bridal shawls and covers.

Then, down he tore Towers of rage set in stone.
Then, long he bore Maiden's chains like his own.
Then...

Ruby gem of love that the children shared
Burned with shining rays cobwebs that ensnared
And tied down those who made freedom their guidance,
That confused and betrayed smug and satisfied ones.
Ruby gem of love, memory of dayspring;
Children on the hill, faithful children waiting.


www.nastyapoleva .ru/29-teksty/121-kumir-i-deti
youtube .com/watch?v=BvM866PRVq4