A whirlwind of ribbons and golden hair -
Haymaking, dancing until the morning.
Golden hops is poured in mugs,
Heady meads, it's time for the feast.
Only the old bard by the fire
Sings the song, it brings the ringing of steel.
One who was glorious yesterday -
In winter, became dust in a whirlwind of time.
Snow, blood ... Ice of winter stars -
And the question is who is at fault.
Ravens’ crimson feast,
The fragile peace was crushed by war.
Only a bard wrapped in a cloak
Sings a song, it brings the jingling of goblets.
All that yesterday’s weeping’s about
In spring, becomes dust in a whirlwind of time.
Rise and fall - in a whirlwind of time ...
Dance is eternal - death... birth...
Waves are splashing, stones are whetted,
Making tears of the world into treasure...
A vortex of time is a song about variability of life, which is not tragic if it is perceived as an element, as a dance, as a kaleidoscope. Like a vortex of colorful shawls and skirts in the dance, when people celebrate the harvest festival. And, suddenly, the scenery is changing: snow, blood and further on the plot of the story. And through all of this - the rapt gaze of Time, which sees every moment, through the centuries and millennia, constant and changeable together with life. Like the sea during years and centuries hews stones and glass, smoothes everything, turns into treasures, takes into the abyss – so is the vortex of time swallows up all events, both joyful and tragic, transforming them, turning some of them into treasures (legends) and others consigning to oblivion.