Today we forget something for good The names of our children Names on the sheets of paper The night froze the water in furrows Cold spell settled in for a while Lingered here those early hours Our future in family graves Our past in lines of blood Breathed the scent of strangers Into these familiar rooms They will mark this earth with ruins And walk the way of five senses Faces against the wind They will measure the destination From the distance And the mountains height More than they seem Chambers into the mature soil Berths in the felled woods In the garden of our heritors The foundation of future cities We dug our own graves on time Long before the Heaven heard Our comfortless cries