Blume - To The Night

Shining tired on the waves The setting sun; Its beams, red and bright, Gently pierce the sea. Its chariot’s descending The clear western sky; Night’s claiming her right To rule the world. Her wings open wide, Under which we’ll mourn and pray, Will hide our shame; My dear Guinevere, In dismal grief we’ll find Full redemption. A flock of crows, Approaching noisily, Stubbornly croaks Sober words to me: “That yearning heart of yours! You fool! What have you done? Bringer of death, Your soul’s forever lost”. Lyrics: Enrico Filisetti Music: Ivan Savino