Bird (feat. Petri Lindroos)
From your shoulder I will fly
To misty fields,
Like little bird.
I will hide you with my hand
From raging flame
And from the sword.
My sword is heavy,
The saddle on my horse.
Days, nights I traveled,
This road where I belong.
Ashes behind, brave warriors dead
They slumber now on the battlefields.
My pain is all I have left,
My mother's song is all I hear.
From your shoulder I will fly
To misty fields,
Like little bird.
I will hide you with my hand
From raging flame
And from the sword.
My trace is Blood on feather grass,
Soon eyes will closed, my spirit fades.
Death now has sent for me,
In arrow's whizz is my mother's song.
From your shoulder I will fly
To misty fields,
Like little bird.
I will hide you with my hand
From raging flame
And from the sword.
Lush are these fields of grasses,
Wild land strange for the miles over around.
Like mother's tears it will rain in silence,
Healing all of you deadly wounds.
Then all of a sudden
Wild bird flapped her wings -
From death she's covered
And sat right by me.
Lush are these fields of grasses,
Wild land strange for the miles over around.
Like mother's tears it will rain in silence,
Healing all of you deadly wounds.
Lush are these fields of grasses,
Wild land strange for the miles over around.
Like mother's tears it will rain in silence,
Healing all of you deadly wounds.
Сила материнской любви чудотворна. Как бы далеко не увёл путь война-странника, благословение матери остаётся с ним, ведь сердце её болит о сыне. Наша песня о том, как по слову матери сама Мать-природа защищает война от гибели, и, как бы ни было тяжело, возвращает к жизни, напоминая о том, что мир полон любви и даже самые тяжёлые раны исцеляются.
