كلمات At High Altitudes

Adorned with threads Of silver mist Intoxicated with The alpine air On our endless way We are so still We are so close to the skies Hold your breath Take my hand I will be Your silent guide The air is so clear That every step Can be the last At high altitudes We search for the freedom Not your counterfeit reason But the wings of delight Are the wings of demise Escaping from the odious congestion Of sick human beings and lewd human stares We follow the path among the dazzling-white peaks Towards the top of the glaring nothingness Our skin is burnt by the sun And our feet are abraded But the hearts are fulfilled with the wind Of the high, high altitudes