The gray wind heats my face, and pestilence that I
smell moving me, death I bring, death I leave seems
to whisper and my soul back to feeling lost.

Whimpering souls lash my body, dragged by the dark
ancestral wind.

If this was a dream I don't want to awake, still its
memory will be impossible to drag.

Darkness, Swallows - me!... Darkness, Swallows - me!

Now the truth is accepted by me, only remains resignation,
everything arond me lost its colour I'm one more soul
dragged by the gray wind.