Текст песни АраксА - Менестрель

The burden of victory is the sadness of his thoughts
Slavery of the soul, and a faceless crown of glory.
Pen stroke or maybe a broken brush
The singer gives us.

A rusty sunset will calm the tunes of the day
With the edge of despondency, a string torments the soul.
Notes of writing, old plexus,
A tale of the greatness of names.

Wise resurrection songs
Leads us to the truth.

The world is ruled by the past
Freezing with songs
Light epics
A resounding stream.
In old legends
Eternal wanderings
He is a singer like a sage.

The lines are embossed on white sheet paper.
The baptism of the mind is a war forgotten by us.
Holy and praised, the warrior is cursed three times.
The path to the revelation of times.

The world is ruled by the past
Freezing with songs
Light epics
A resounding stream.
In old legends
Eternal wanderings
He is a singer like a sage.