Misery (Khors)

Through the haze of the fog
 You can hear the breath of the grief
 Souls of warriors are passing away, 
 Bringing suffering to the hearts. 

 Red river carries sad news
 The songs of birds cannot be heard
 Silence hanging over gloomy wood
 And the sun hesitating to rise. 

 Life and light passed away from this world
 Having left the moans of sorrow
 Death-rattles and mothers' sobbings. 

 Behind the ancient wood
 Shadows of gods receive to their world
 The souls of brave and eternal.