The eagle opened its wings and rushed to the night.

The mountains open their eyes

Showers followed

The horn of the expedition sounds endless

The poets are drunk like a drunkard

Wind guardian

Just like a star

The love of the mountains spreads over the century

Countless hands dragged the night

Stars passing by

The wind of the setting sun

Nether days to the west

You are roaming

In the direction of nothingness

After your back

Just outside the horizon

Form a picture

Oil paint disappeared into the open door

Sunset of youth

Silent death