As arrows fly from blood below,
And footsteps, louder, ruin the night,
A bitterness consumes my soul.

No man could soothe this melanchole
through earthly means no matter might,
As arrows fly from blood below.

I snap the seeds and melt the snow,
As somewhere from the sea of white
A bitterness consumes my soul.

The fields are barren, no seeds to sow
Crushed swiftly under soft daylight,
As arrows fly from blood below.

My gaze turns in the afterglow
of wars now lost and out of sight
A bitterness consumes my soul.

No timely end could ease the blow
Nor blessed water soothe the blight
As arrows fly from blood below,