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Beauty, lost in the fog, not beheld by eyes longing in the face of pain, not in defeat satisfied.
The rage of the sky, shown in the Wind betrays not a temperate clime or the fates of fools lost in the storm never to be seen again.

Hail to the sky!
I give you my fear and adoration:
You, who assails me with ice, wind and fog;
You, who brings lightning, rain and thunder -
You beautiful monster!

Hail to the sky!
I give you my fear and adoration.
Those elements with which you assail me are the elements of change upon the land already worn away by years of torment under your benign hue.

Hail to the sky!
I give you my fear and adoration,
You, whose essence I breath to sing praises unto your power;
You, who hold the genesis of life hath such little pity upon bare flesh and blood.

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