The Spindle by Helengard
Evenfall will cloak the hills in darkness and dreams,
Hastily burying us from the eyes of strangers
Remember the nocturne moments of farewell
(The wind is whispering your name to me on my way)
The days of waiting turned into years
(Your voice is like the singing of a creek in the Spring
thaw)
The spondle winding in the night
Entwining the threads of fates
Casting a light to the windows
Inviting all the birds;
She moves the spindle wheel,
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