Journey of the Moles — Belobog Ancient Poetry Collection

I am jealous of the gear that lost the dusk The turning days never had a future Three shields per bottle The retail sale of souls Just enough for one mouthful in a meal Amber, amber, yet another amber for enrichment The stars in the hometown are never on time Wind, wind, another wind howls as a hawk The evening light tolls And takes away the stone pier with nowhere to go in Rivet Town Shackles applied, on a moist heart How could it be measured in kilograms Yet another stone statue stands at the start of the mine shaft The mining machines sculpt the pattern of its own trousers Passersby all say It's so foolish