I met a witch with amber eyes who slowly sang a scarlet rune, shifting to an icy laughter like the laughter of the moon.
Red as a wanton's was her mouth and fair the breast she bade me take. With a word that clove and clung, burning like a furnace-flake.
But from her bright and lifted bosom, when I touched it with my hand, came the many-needled coldness of a glacier-taken land.
And lo, the witch with eyes of amber vanished like a blown-out flame. Leaving but the lichen-eaten stone that wore a blotted name.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.