Текст песни Sonne Hagal - The Hawk

William Henry Davies The Hawk

Thou dost not fly, thou art not perched,
The air is all around:
What is it that can keep thee set,
From falling to the ground?
The concentration of thy mind
Supports thee in the air;
As thou dost watch the small young birgs,
With such a deadly care.

My mind has such a hawk as thou,
It is an evil mood;
It comes when there's no cause for grief,
And on my joys doth brood.
Then do I see my life in parts;
The earth receives my bones,
The common air absorbs my mind -
It knows not flowers from stones

William Henry Davis Falcon.
You do not fly, you are without support:
you're hanging in the air.
At the bottom of the road and lake.
You are above the country roofs.

Concentrating thinking
can you achieve
freedom in a cocky guy
and choose the game.

Like a falcon in my brain
my devilish attitude.
He asserts, although there is no hint of it,
that death is not behind the mountain.

First I'll say goodbye to reason.
Bones will be honored -
buried. It's a pity that forget-me-nots
do not bloom on a stone.