Tacit II
Ihsahn
[Verse 1]
Raising a tower
Crumbling in the shadow
Of the forming idea
Too tired for pride
Too tired for pride
[Verse 2]
A thunderous voice
In cold, wordless tongues
Resonate deep
In the heart of the night
[Verse 3]
The bittersweet song
Of a poets lament
That even his best
Are but feeble translations