Even if the morrow is barren of promisesNothing shall forestall my returnTo become the dew that quenches the landTo spare the sands, the seas, the skiesI offer thee this silent sacrifice
— Это что, каша что ли?— «Домшим», сэр!
Таки заставили зарегаться
Even if the morrow is barren of promises
Nothing shall forestall my return
To become the dew that quenches the land
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies
I offer thee this silent sacrifice