Where at Night the Wood Grouse Plays
When through the starry night the mists of autumn glide the air is filled with tragedies of olden times Where with a dreadful tone a nightbird plays its song in forest dark at moors they come to life...
A bed of moss was granted, she laid down with a sigh, Embraced by the green blankets she kissed the world goodbye
Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 24, 2025
't was an eve in late summer, autumn was nigh still a warm sun did colour the sky The meadows did shine in a strange golden light and vales did forth the soft haze of night When through the air a voice did resound beckoning the shepherd to rise from the ground [THE SHEPHERD:] "What sweet voice does sing in such a woebegone tone? What maiden does wander the heather alone?" Bewitched by its tone, he followed her song, whilst the sun did descend and the shadows grew long In the dim light of dusk, near the sparkling cascade on a moss covered stone sat a crying young maid [THE SHEPHERD:] "Why art thou dreary? What happened to thee? What song didst thou sing so woefully?" [THE MAIDEN:] "Go whither O shepherd! Don't sadden thine heart Thou canst not help me - not thou who thou art! An old man who's been born in a cradle of wood of a tree that at least a hundred years stood, cut by a boy who at heart was still pure - might be my redeemer if he knew that he could..."
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 24, 2025
Bes till, O wand'rer! Dost thou not hear the sad song of night? How the wind does beckon thee to the rest of a while and to lend him thine ear? What woeful tale does it tell tonight? What tragedy of old?
Submitted by The Void — Apr 24, 2025
This track is instrumental.
This track is instrumental.
This track is instrumental.
A night of December so dark and cold, I walked a path ages old The moon amongst the clouds revealed lightning valleys, forest and field Embraced by silence I wandered the moor an endless landscape by my side when in the mist I saw a light dancing through the hazy night I stood and watched the play in awe was deeply touched by what I saw I told my friends what I did see and what they told did tremble me! It's said the ghost of a young, fair maid is cursed to dwell beneath the shade of the olden oak she died below O that was many moons ago!
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 24, 2025
When shadows grow longer and the sun sets for the forthcoming night; our sorrow is stronger as darkness and death are near by our side. Many a sun will set and tears of grief will be shed... When shadows grow longer... (Our sorrow is stronger)
Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 24, 2025