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Maybe it was wind that is slithering
Loud as a fallen snow from the boughs
Or maybe the breath of flame that is licking
The edge of the beautiful autumnal wood

Or maybe evil spirit losted in the room
Through locked door of the empty house
Or the ancient summer has turned in the grave
Or it was her dreadful and brave

Ona je iz knjige koju vetar lista
U travi pored umrlog citaca
Ona je iz pakla koji zbog nje blista
Udaljena iza plamenog maca

Maybe it was wind or the wicked rain
Stayed in our memory
Maybe the death wanted to retail
Or it was just her

Forever in me Morana...

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