The gray wind heats my face, and the pestilence that I smell moving me,
death I bring, death I leave seems to whisper and my soul back to feeling lost.
Whimpering souls lash my body, dragged by the dark ancestral wind.
If this was a dream I don't want to awake, still its memory will be impossible to drag.
Darkness, Swallows – me!...
Darkness, Swallows – me!
Now the truth is accepted by me, only remains resignation,
everything around me lost its colour
I'm one more soul dragged by the gray wind.