Under the moon light, I am the spirit,
traveling over the fairy island of yours in chilling breeze,
searching for signs of changes, those remains, and the places of memory.

The grand buildings of city residence are out of light,
as they have all fallen into deep sleep at night.
So were those camps of advanturers, which had been so noisy before.

Passing through the papermills, there stands still the raving rabbit statue,
which you told me that it could sing while I considered that as a yelling under torture.

Front of ruins of wasted copper mines, a lonely banner is fluttering over a bush of daissies.
That's your favorite collectible.
I can still imagine in mind your smile of harvest.

Behind dusted structures of weaponsmith, there lies the smelters' zone.
A touch on the furnace chamber, my fingles feel no hurt of raging fireburn but the coldness of stone.
Or, that might be the coldness of moonlight....

Yes, that must be of the moonlight.
That's why all those abandoned noble residences look as covered with hoarfrost.

Beyond the quiet roofs, the forest has been gone, only the stubs of trees remain.
An oblique scarecrow stands beside me, facing to the greenness of grass alternating among stubs.
Looking at his big red mouth, I ask:
What are you going to tell?
Tell me that you love flourish trees like she does?
Or just laughing on my face....

A piece of leather is lying on the ground beside fishermen huts.
I just pass by, for I can recall your angry face
as once before I had asked if you wanted me to put deposit seeds into your empty fishing pond.

Climbed over mountains, I stop at river bank,
where locate your whitecastles circled with flowerstones.
As I had told you, the flowerstones looks like tombstones to me.
And, they are looking just the same way.
Maybe only the heavenly choirs from the whitetower
could settle in peace those millions sacrificed in your adventures.
But I prefer darkcastles, which might arouse the dead to be an army of darkness.

Ah,there is a barrel beneath the trees.
Remember that argue on whether it contains wine or beer?
As the only alive on your island, now I can pronounce aloud in pride:
There should be only one possible contain in the barrels!
That is my favorite german dark beer!
Wines are for women and the sick weak vicious gentlemen,
and shall be forbbiden from this proud viking fairyland!
Longlive the king!
And, longlive the queen......