1. THE ICEMIRRORED

(Instrumental)


2. BEYOND THE ASHEN SNOWSTORM

I. By white yearning, snowstorm is walking,
To the sky flies her howl,
On the trees lays silver watercolor,
Can't see roads beyond the blizzard.
Frosts chain the woods to irons,
Sleeping their thickets in snow,
Under oppression of winter, heavens don't breath,
Where the ash of frozen sun.
Everything is frozen… Quiet… And not a soul,
Frost crackles under one's feet,
Echo wanders in backwoods,
Between branches of shaggy birches,
Ancient firs covered with hoar,
Snow by white bordure lays on branches,
Wind is long howling inextricably,
In thickets of woods and in the white fields…

II. Dissonant chorus of mournful song,
Wolves catch up the melody in the hearts of the woods,
In the name of Winter and for its glory,
On the northern lands of eternal snow.
Wind is howling and it's getting stronger,
Leading astray, covering eyes,
In the sky can't see bright lights,
Heavens are speechless, misted, empty.
Stars go out, drowned in darkness,
Somewhere in mist shines the disk of the moon,
Pungent bitterness swallowed in throat,
Going beyond the snowstorm, away from spring.
Who's like a shadow follows me in footsteps,
With sticky dampness - with raw cold,
Walking inaudibly on fresh traces,
Prophesying parting from winter to me.
In the thicket - all the way, the forest stretches,
In snowdrifts I drown, losing my strength,
Through vaults of trees can't see heavens,
Somewhere in their crones, wind is frozen.
Where eternal cold of frozen winter,
Whose spirit is alive in sleeping woods,
Slumbering under savannah of darkness,
In the already dying thawed snow.
Frost getting weak, snowstorm subsides,
Cold is moving away to thickets of woods,
The thaw drops first tears,
To the damp grave of dead snow.
Under white veil in the heart of Taiga,
Kingdom of winter of snow and ice,
Beyond the ashen snowstorm,
Where only coldness and darkness, emptiness…

«…Monoliths of pure ice,
So dazzling…
In the rays of wintersun,
So beautiful…
In the light of pale moon.
Closing my eyes,
I will see again,
Snowy vastnesses,
Of outlandish Taiga…
Where coldness will pierce me…
Again and again…
In frozen armour,
Gifted by Him,
Like reborn,
Fading here…
Among snow and ice…
Beside with Their majesty…
(Now, I'm one of them…)»

III. On the hillsides, where forest is end,
Shore of river constrained by ice,
Roar and splash of frozen waves,
Wind will catch, echo will spread.
Snowstorm, blizzard raging, whistling,
Snowstorm covers eyes by snow,
Below the hills, waves are noisy,
Thickets, woods are answering them.
(And) all of it as one in domination of winter,
Whose white kingdom has not gone yet,
Under the gloom of cold taiga darkness,
With dawn, when the sun rose.
Snowstorm, blizzard will cease for the morning,
Waves are no longer so maliciously noisy,
On the hillsides snow is coming down,
In silent agony will die, will wheeze…
By white yearning, snowstorm walks,
Frosts are gone, woods are free,
The thaw drops tears of hoarfrost,
From spruce branches, awakened from sleep.
Breath of spring will burn by heat,
Heart will pierce by raw yearning,
White kingdom will fall,
Howling by northern wind and severe cold…


3. SILVERFROST'S DANCE

A distant winter in realm of snow,
Where waves are frozen on shores,
In sleeping thickets, chained by dream,
Whose branches hoar covered with silver ,
In frost crashing, taiga is groan,
Then for a long time the snows did not come off,
Up to forty below zero,
The earth are frozen, cooled down, chilled.
The harsh winter in these lands,
In Siberian woods, Altaic steppes,
On the rivers, the mountains, the lakes, the fields,
The ravines, the plains, the woods and the hills,
Everywhere was held and left his mark,
The fierce frost all dressed in silver,
He was sever, crackling, adamant,
Like a absolute nature power,
Faceless, invisible, everyplace, everywhere,
By rim of the branches, the ice thickness on the water,
By creaking and groaning, crashing and howling,
In taiga thickets, he don't know the rest,
By winterbreath, palm and retribution,
Merged with the wind and nightmare snowstorm,
All Siberia essence, representing itself,
In madness dance, by a distant winter...


4. COLD OF EARLY SPRING

Over head vault of the grey sky from lead,
There are slush and dirt of early spring under my feet,
Winter is trying to steal time by pieces of snowdrifts,
From grey snow, who’s already dead and now can't born.

In the womb of skies (only) heavy drops of rain,
Will fall down like alarmed flock of birds.
From heaven will derail the veil, leaden clouds the silence,
As cold rainfall, on the earth, with crash will collapse.

Takes strikes by cold wind by breast and face,
Raw rain presses by heavy wall to the earth,
Debris of winter mixed with dirt in grey ash,
Who was the white snow, but left and lost.
Not the tzarina, only the ghost and the shadow of old majesties,
Overthrow of the throne, rot the diadem from her head,
Silver dress changed to the widow robe,
Like the black raven, spread the wings, in the woods retreating.

In deaf thickets, under branches of the ancient firs,
Snowdrifts will cover the widow by their veil,
Below the underground stones and the labyrinths roots,
Will bury, will conceal and will cover so deep under the earth…

«…From the pack strayed,
Merged with despair,
Dies in the spring, don't born in the winter,
For me - only silence,
For me - only suffer,
For me - only the white silence… The white!
Beyond raw, spring veil,
Painfull summer and this autumn –
Revelations of winter, rest and oblivion,
The white kingdom - salvation, salvation…
…Rays of the sunset in your hair,
Shine of pure ice in your eyes,
Porcelain light by pale moon,
On your skin whiter than snow,
Bends of the body - the frost traceries,
Frozen tears of silver,
Your eyelashes burn like the sun,
By winterdawn of the cold dawning…»