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A Retrospective-2006

1. The Franconian Woods in Winter's Silence
2. A Gentle Grieving Farewell Kiss
3. The Blue Mists of Night
4. Mourners
5. Where at Night the Wood Grouse Plays
6. Dying Brokenhearted

A Wintersunset...-1996

1. Moonromanticism [00:02:00]
2. Under Dreamskies [00:10:11]
3. The Franconian Woods in Winter's Silence [00:10:57]
4. The Yearning [00:08:43]
5. Autumn Grey Views [00:03:57]
6. Ordain'd to Thee [00:11:15]

Lifeless they fall apart
Golden as our precious art
My love sinks into a thick grey veil of mist
Trees, leafless trees, the epitaph of the sun
What once was green presents now grey and trist
A gloomy grave, a foreseen death, a symbol for our pain
Drowned in a flood of autumn rain
Silhouettes of light astray somewhere in the clouds

Still, still war die Nacht, nur reget sich sacht -
Von Dunste bedeckt, ein See tief im Walde,
Im Schilfe, die Schwäne, ihr Wehklagen hallte...

Die Maid indes irrte nächtens umher,
Ihr Schmerz ungeborchen - kein Trost nimmermehr
Als ob man sie jage, über Stock, über Stein,
Immer tiefer ins Dickicht, ins Dunkle hinein

Outside the rain keeps falling
On foul soil, dying snow
Melting and transforming
to waters made of woe

Grey clouds brewing idle
the trees can not withstand
What is dead and gone by

O gothic moon thy shine encharmest me tonight
Bereavest me of sleep, makest me wander under thy light.
Thou letst abloom my heart until the very last of thy ray,
Shine! Bereaver of sleep, ere black clouds hide thee away....

I know this can't be eternal!
No love hath ever conquered the borders of time!
No beauty is everlasting, not even thine!

Many Moons Ago...

A night of december so dark and cold,
I walked a path ages old
The moon amongst the clouds revealed
lightning valleys, forest and field

Embraced by silence I wandered the moor

Meagre trees in the shrouds,
as olde as the stones....
Mourners of abandoned love,
fornever their woes shall grow silent.

O how many times may the moon has shone -
reflected in these black lakes?
Should it be that we can hear,

Melancholy - still my desire for thy precious tragedian wine...
Sweep me away, into the vale of thine!
Where sorrow's strong and so is joy.

Melancholy - still my desire, O let my heart by thee inspire...
O fill the air with thy sweet scent,
Let thy light, thy star crescent.

Could not even [_?_]
That [_?_] my eyes and see
That there was blood through there long times ago
Oh my love now bring the day with [_?_]
Even if it's lavender and I am violet by thy shame
Never more like the silver hands of the moon
With its shield of screams
Sensation dark as thy splendid diamonds

Could not even [_?_]
that [_?_] my eyes and see
that there was blood through there long times ago
Oh my love now bring the day with [_?_]
even if it's lavender and I am violet by thy shame
Never more like the silver hands of the moon
With it's sheild of screams
Sensation dark as thy splendid diamonds

Drifting through a void
without a voice
Grey and dark - through starless nights
that leave no choice
A lifeless mind, a soul astrayed
in autumn's maze
In shade and light, my days portrayed
A spark of grace

Songs of Moors and Misty Fields-1997

1. When Shadows Grow Longer [00:01:27]
2. The Blue Mists of Night [00:06:25]
3. Mourners [00:09:17]
4. Ode to Melancholy [00:08:47]
5. Lover's Grief [00:09:12]
6. The Ensemble of Silence [00:09:55]

And many a moon shall rise...

...and lead me into the cold embrace of the night
Here we drown in our grief, drown in an absence of light
Here is no shelter, no escape from our heart,
Entwined in this tragic embrace I fear and bemourn to depart

When the shadows fall,

Ride withered days unfiring the sun,
the nights were soft and clo udless,
the saddened will "be gone"
and winds did lays in forest,
and dawn was filled with eerie sweetness
in days before the fall.

Fight with our hearts and oceans ???

And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently into me,
on silent wings the night comes from there,
as my heart longs to thee...

..for in my hand I still hold the rose that froze long times ago,
its leafs have withered, it ceased to grow - left in me is woe.

The wine of love, is o so sweet, but bitter is regret,

Wrapped in morning's silence
Of these emerald streams
Lonesome am I as I hear the ravens cry
Grieving art the morning songs

Above the forest reigns tranquility
Just ice cold winds whisper to me
As if a velvet robe would wrap my bleeding heart

Wrapped in morning silence of December’s trees
Lonesome am I as I hear the ravens cry
Grieving art the morning songs
Above the forest's tranquillity
Just ice cold winds whisper to me
As if a velvet robe would wrap
My bleeding heart
A gentle breeze of these winds and grief falls apart

Tall it stands
With twisting wings on high

Built on stones
From the olden mine

The winds forevermore
Will drive its wheel

it was an eve in late summer, autumn was nigh
still a warm sun did colour the sky
The meadows did shine in a strange golden light
and vales did forth the soft haze of night

When through the air a voice did resound
beckoning the shepherd to rise from the ground

I ride through day and night
Listen wind, they art my fellows
Eternally I am looking for the eye
Inside my heart
The yearning grows
I rode through the forest of images
Over mountains have I
But it seems they touch the sky

Storm skies from the nights
Shadows of the forest lie inside
And gleaming emeralds in decorative tones
Brushed by the ice under circles
Her timeless beauty started to wither
A green voice in her heart
She touched the red leaves in sorrow
A farewell was found inside

Air and wind diffuse
The sence of things in move

Sands distort
Grain by grain

None can stem the tide
Not one grain denied

Schön ist der Wald, wenn der Tag sich neigt,
Wenn feiner Nebel hoch vom moosgen Boden steigt
Und Vöglein singen sacht zum Ruhgeleit -
Dann mirs die Brust vor arger Schwere feit

Doch in der Höh des Walds kann ich schon sehen,
Geliebte Dämmerzeit - musst gehn
Musst weichen schon dem kalten Mondeslicht,

Weiland-2002

1. Kein Hirtenfeuer glimmt mehr [00:02:36]
2. Heimwärts [00:06:49]
3. Nebel [00:02:15]
4. Fortgang [00:07:11]
5. A Cappella [00:00:51]
6. Nachhall [00:01:23]

When through the starry night
the mists of autumn glide
the air is filled with tragedies of olden times
Where with a dreadful tone
a nightbird plays its song
in forest dark at moors they come to life...
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