The resentful wanderer sets out on the misty path of enlightment.
Though in absence of fear, still many a few which worries him.
He is like winters embrace cold, yet with these mesmerizing sights
Of spectral landscapes of the great emirdiale in his frozen eyes,
There is a certain warmness in his tersareth.

Hear the sound of his mighty stride advancing,
Unwavering in the distance...far, deep in the saldor!
Deeply rooted like wheathered trees,
far away only there my heart pounds.
A crimson relic, a trace of tulwod steadily
drawing behind lets it solidify!
Why does my soltiark bare witness to the damned pestilence...

Weary eyes, only nebulous veils remain to be seen...
Wind calmy brushes through my fully grown hair.
Mountains are towering high above
the endless sea of vast forrests.
Comfortable seated upon the highest,
steepest mountain, my thron!

I can see the place I shall forever call my home...