I saw you in a fever,
and met you in a dream,
on the highest mountain under the sky.
Your eyelids made of reindeer skin
are like ghosts,
but strangely familiar
Galdra
When your singing turns gray1
Galdra
We ride the wind
Herb and fire will be,
feather and stone will be,
forest and meadow will be,
your temple
Galdra
When your singing turns gray
Galdra
We ride the wind
1. Becomes old? Gray of dawn/dusk? Unsure.