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作词 : Wilma Collo
作曲 : Alessandro Armuschio
In the assault of black winds
We wonder what lies ahead of us
The citadel of stars is slowly fading
Is this our end
or a passing chill?
A failing fortress where demise awaits
Is our riven symbol in these darkening straits
And the withered tree casts a terrific stain
Will we ever know
if it shall bloom again?
Swiftly, swiftly the glory has passed
In a time that could be our last
High and lofty, and yet so small
Is the spire before its fall
With our age of gold behind us
In the uncharted space we tread
As the plague rages, certainties crumble
And the noon
shines a sullen red
A voice rings hollow in the empty hall
And aimless footsteps on the stone resound
We don’t know whether to cry for mercy
In this arbour where thorns abound
Swiftly, swiftly the glory has passed
In a time that could be our last
High and lofty, and yet so small
Is the spire before its fall
We have flourished and the wind is changing
We are vanquished and our force is weak
Dried up cisterns stand in idle stupor
In this arbour where decayed roots streak
Swiftly, swiftly the glory has passed
In a time that could be our last
High and lofty, and yet so small
Is the spire before its fall
Swiftly, swiftly the glory has passed
Slowly, slowly these days will run
In the shade of a darkling sun
Till the sapling from the lost reign
Casts new branches and blooms again
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