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The Golden Wolf:

And there, amidst the fog
A solemn mountain rises
Its pinnacle touching the grey sky
Silent spruces guarding the shores

There waits a grinning prize
Worthy of legend
There waits a golden wolf
A beast with six legs

And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find your shadow
Amidst the darkest night

Still I bear the flowers of pain
Still I bear the flowers of solitude

What trick of gods is this?
Rewars and riches
Here within our reach
Yet no within our grasp

And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find your shadow amidst the darkest night
And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find a place where no sorrow creeps in

And yet it wrings me
Like a strange cold hand
And yet it burns me
Like a viper's tongue

Better it would be
To lie on bed of silt
And watch the moon's face
From under the waves

Better it would be
To rest on bed of mire
Inside the ocean's womb
Dreaming of days long gone

Sunless, starless, pathless is the way

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