English Translation
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Our words go beyond the moon.
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Our words go into the shadows.
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The river sings the endlessness.
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We write of our journey through night.
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We write in our aloneness.
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We want to know the shape of eternity.
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Who knows the way it is?
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Who knows what time will not tell us?
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Mountains, solitude and the moon
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until the journey's end?
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The river holds the lost road of the sky;
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the shape of eternity?
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Who knows the way it is?
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Who knows what time will not tell us?
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Where is the beginning?
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Where is the end?
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Why did we fall into days?
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Why are we calling out into the endlessness?
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Who knows the way it is?
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Who knows what time will not tell us?
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The River Sings
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| Enya |
