From The freezing night
A new era dawns,
And the rage of Winter
Lays Persecution upon the land.

But Northern Blood always boils in defiance,
Rising continually after the oppressive cold strikes it down
As if the wolves of old still live within my heart,
Screaming to the wind, "I shall never be frozen."

Buth the dawn gives way to a cold light
And a sleeping world frozen in white.

My soul is given to the old Wolves
Who found the courage to live
In the bleakest of worlds,
Where life is uncertain, as is death.
A new era dawns,
Where life is uncertain, as is death.

Let me try to draw my courage
To scream with the old wolves,
And let the icy winds know
I shall never be frozen.

Winterdance upon these hills of old
To celebrate the lands that collided long ago
That forced our great mountains ever high,
That they still stand under the seasons' violent sky.

Winterdance!

Rise!
You are Bear!
Gone are the wolves.
Only you are left.
Defy!
Show the world who rules the woods!

Your heart shall roar with the wind,
Your soul defiant of the cold,
Your bravery only matched,
By your fierce countenance!

Rise!

As a cold, fierce wind surrounded me,
And slashed painfully through my senses,
I heard a warning, that no matter the season,
The Great Mountain would not weep for any life it takes.

Tension mounts, and another strom rises,
Blowing over the Great Mountain.
The anger of imaginary gods is rendered paltry,
When falling ice rends unsheltered flesh.

Even now, I feel the gathering strength,
Of a mountain exploding in ice!

True as the stars,
The beauty of the Great Mountain
Is magnified in its anger,
And careless violence.
In the midst of these savage days,
It feels as if the very land
Is blood-starved,
And hungers for fearful lives.

Long live the frigid days,
That those who are weak flee!

Long live the punishing ice,
That those who are foolish may die!

And now I know
My own reflection
In Winter's ice!

Mountain winds howl
Tormented plaintive calls.

The land shudders
As if in agony.

Even during warn times
The echoes remain,
The fear lingers,
As if the land holds its breath.

Winter winds upon bare flesh
Are as if a knife
Held by hateful hands,
And thrust by rage.

The gray sky,
A creator
Frowning
In disgust.

The snow,
A burial shroud
For a dead land
And its children.

The sound surrounds with its deafening scream;
The howls remembered in my fiercest dreams.

The echoes remain;
The fear lingers.

Under a sky that beheld the sun's departure
A Lonely Wind calls.

The howling cold
Begets fear
Damning this wind
To solitude.

The Howling cold
Breaks my heart
And pity comes
To the Lonesome Wind.

Courage I'll find
To stand in the Wind
And offer myself
As a companion.

Horns of the season sound,
Awakening ravens and the wolves.

And all before the forest
Call the mountains' trees,
And pray for deliverance
From the freezing breeze.

Summer's easy days
Forgotten in the shadows of fear.

Horns of the season sound
And all return to the forest.

World turns white.
Deep forest stripped bare.
Ghosts are made
Deep within the forest.

Uneasy air,
Smell of danger,

And wind is upon the land,
In a sudden rage.

All are cowed;
Rendered fragile.

Under an erupting sky,
Only fear can be known.

Even the fierce ones,
Fall under a black sky.

Few are the storms,
That thirst not for blood.

Roar of the storm,
Scream of the wind,

They, too die.
A lonely sunbeam fights the gloom

Silence.

And again, the mountains can be seen

Like this mountain I am cold.
Like this mountain I do not forgive.
I hold in my heart unmeltable ice,
For my commanding fabric was sown together in this season's midst.

Season of horror,
To match your furious wonder
I need only look into my heart,
For I am you.

Every snowflake is my dearest wish
To make the lives of men weary
Before Winter's hardships,
That they should flee my beautiful mountains.

Those frozen winds Echo within my own soul!

Like this mountain I am old,
And like this mountain I am alive.
Mountain, let my ghost be you guardian,
Until the rain carries us both into the sea.