Through the forest and the fog
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The sound of the Turks approaching;
Hooves beating and hearts pounding
Through the night and the valley below.
From my window pinned to an arrow’s point
Our destiny they thought they had written.
Thousands of lights flickering in the distance
Mehmed’s men are too many to number
And your own brother leads the way.
With a single breath they can break these battlements of brick and stone.
But their armies will not penetrate the fortress of my passion
Nor will their sword pierce the flesh of my heart.
I will not surrender my adoration to their god
Nor can they capture my soul.
For I will enter the Arges below,
Through the door where immortality waits with my love in hand
And yours outstretched, you call to me, my husband.
The river winds its way and connects your heart and mine
and the tributary of blood
flows between my veins and yours
And I, your wife, shall always be