Beyond the seven seas the mighty prince lived,
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He loved his daughter more than all riches,
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But death came to her at an unexpected hour -
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The youthful color withers at the delight of the eyes.
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The prince went out into the field, into the night at the Gates of Winter,
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And called to the gods on all sides:
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- You, the lords of honey at the feast of the fathers,
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Don't let me take my love!
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I speak at the Gate where Winter reigns:
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I will no longer put on ore linen,
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I won’t drink honey from a circular bowl
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And I will not touch the iron of battle with my hand.
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The face of the young princess is clear again,
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But the cry is coming from the enemy side.
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And the neighbor of the matchmakers sent the princess,
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He promised to save the country from troubles.
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Words are heard far away
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Before the Gates of Winter,
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Between people and gods
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From the Lower to the Upper worlds.
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In return, he asked for honey to drink drunk
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With him from the fraternal bowl, the circular bowl.
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And in the middle of summer he married the young
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Prince, and drank honey for their health.
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The autumn leaf has fallen, at the end of the year.
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All who held the sword fell at the gate.
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The prince met the adversary with the iron of battles,
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And from the blood the silk of the clothes became ruddy...
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Snow...
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Blood...
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Frost on the eyelids...
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Arms outstretched before the sky, fell
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Lord of Hope
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In the festive luxury of clothes
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From red linen
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Having drunk your sweet honey to the bottom,
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Raising the steel of war -
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No, do not pass the Gate of Winter
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That repaid debt -
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Hoarfrost forged the last breath ...
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Death dreams -
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For all who fell at the Gates of Winter. |