still, still war die nacht,
nur reget sich sacht -
von dunste
A night of december so dark and cold,
I walked a
And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently
It was an eve in late summer, autumn was nigh
still
When through the starry night
the mists of autumn glide
the air
A bed of moss was granted,she laid down with a
O gothic moon thy shine encharmest me tonightBereavest me of
Melancholy - still my desire for thy precious tragedian wine...Sweep
...and many a moon shall rise......and lead me into the
Bes till, O wand'rer!Dost thou not hear the sad song
When shadows grow longerand the sun sets for the forthcoming
» More on Empyrium