Ah, dance through the cold shadows of Pan As tears fall from heaven Once I had hold the rarest rose But, that is now forgotten with time Among the tree's I wandered To feel the embrace of etemal eclipse As my candle bums out And we must make the myths Dark is the moon at harvest The nightly mist approaches Through the forlorned marshes Then darkness has now been achieved Crush your earthly virtnes As I stumbled through snow and frost My feeble heart is longing for the wood Where all dark cast a shadow It's pale morrow landscape Has now risen through the bleak night Over the moors and mountains Flies the hunting ravens searching Dance through the cold shadows of Pan As tears fall from heaven Then, once I had hold the rarest rose Frozen is my pagan heart And once again the dawn is here Hear the sound of silence In these trees Are my gallows