Living Amber

A pine's tear frozen through the ages,
A pearl within the Baltic tide,
A piece of Sun on sandy pages,
A dance of warmth and secrets where the sea-gods hide.
A piece of happiness on neck and hand,
A frozen moment in the dreamland.
The keeper of the dainas and ancient lore,
The link of times — Living Amber evermore.

The pines still weep, the firs still moan with sorrow,
The harsh storms keep on coming to the shore.
They bring the ill, the blizzards of the soul to borrow,
The cry of hungry seagulls and the ravens' roar.
The Baltic land grows empty, sad and cold,
No pines remain — no amber to behold.
And heaven cries with autumn drizzle, sore:
Was it really all in vain, forevermore?

The bonfires burn — the heretics are burning books,
And sheepskins cannot hide their fangs or killer looks.
Upon the lie they build their sacrificial altar,
They buy and sell all: Judas is their ruler and their master.
Their gold will turn to shards, it's just a game:
You cannot steal, buy Soul or Earthly Flame —
A frozen moment in the dreamland,
The link of times — Living Amber without shame.