Текст песни Башня Rowan - Ионический ветер

For the Runic Volume of Sacred Hills,

Past of heather, past the harsh seas,

that on the stones, having fluttering, attack

Ionian wind walks.

Where the brushing crimson, where the northern moss

Where the cortic pines bent into the dust,

He swears like in Eldeada,

About cheerful sings grapes.

Past the northern schker, past the gloomy holes

It flies and reheats, in Siring, whistling,

Hi hope nor grief or fear -

Carefree free ptah.

Had Runic Volume of Sacred Hills,

Where the dull sun is always in the clouds,

having gotten off the course leading to paradise

Ionian wind flies.