Královna jezer

In the wide desolate land another sad twilight falls. Long shadows of waterlogged stunted birches and stumps stretch across the marshy flat plain, wetlands where life has drowned. Like bony hands stick out rotten trees that have clung to the blades of grass and sunk to the bottom of oblivion. The light dies behind the horizon flat, no moon shines through the darkness, silent mists cool, but crying from afar. The northern reaches of endless lakes, impenetrable marshes, a forbidden corner where only death reigns. Even the wind shuns the void, there is no one to stroke the hair, no one to sing. The stars do not look here, the light only seems summer, since autumn night and coldness reign, and the echoes of silent weeping remain immortal to tell of the cheerless events of a mythical kingdom of the Lakes...