Королевна [Korolevna] [English translation]

I've sung of gods, I've sung of heroes,

Of the clang of blades, and of bloody battles;

So long as my falcon was by my side,

His chant to me was instead of prayers.

But it's been a year since he flew away -

A storm enchanted took him away,

Dearest friend was stolen by blizzard

Coming from a faraway land.

And I haven't been my own self since,

And seagulls up above keep wailing;

Within the fog my vision holds

Only the eyes of bitterwort color;

Oh, I wish I could see with falcon's eyes,

Raise in the air on falcon's wings,

In that foreign falcon's land,

Yet not in a dream, but somewhat nearer…

Bird, do become my spirit,

Lend a wind beneath my wings,

Every night I dream of flight -

Cold fjords, mile after mile;

Your sleeves are silk, princess,

Mounts embroidered with white heather,

I know I've never been there,

And if I have, it was my own misfortune;

If only I could remember what had happened

Not to you and not to me.

I'm tossed like a fallen leaf,

And my soul can find no peace;

You pay for the song with a moonfull,

The way others pay with hard coin;

In a distant land shroud in winter,

You are lovelier than spring,

And more intoxicating than summer…

Awaken, princess,

Don your feathers,

Let's fly into the tempest,

So thin is the ice of your wrists...

Your sleeves are silk, princess,

Feathers embroidered with bright gold;

I laugh and soar into the sky,

I don't believe in myself either;

Come closer,

Let me touch your feathers;

Every night I see mountains,

Every morn I loose my eyesight;

Your sleeves are silk, princess,

Skies embroidered with shiny crescent;

Carry me away, north wind,

To the lands of pain and fable;

It hurts to know that all had happened

Not to you and not to me,

The time didn't halt

To glance into a carved wooden window;

I've been dreaming of you, my joy, at nights,

But you're clad in a cloak of sorrow.

I, of course, will sing you a farewell,

But shall leave your home

With the ray of dawn…

Your dreams wander somewhere, princess…

Is spring long away from old grasses?

All is left to say

Are few words, so little,

Awaken, princess, don your feathers…

I know all too well that all had happened

Not to you and not to me,

Your grace wounds painfully,

Like an arrow over a bowstring;

You pay for the song with a moonfull,

The way others pay with hard coin;

I'd give everything to be with you,

But what if you aren't at all in this world…

You pay for a song with a moonfull,

The way others pay with ringing coin;

I'd give everything to be with you,

But what if you aren't at all in this world…

Princess…