Last of Kugu Sorta

A cycle of poems «Whispers of Mari El»

In the twilight’s embrace, where the shadows fall, 
A tale of the ancients, forgotten by all. 
Once we danced in the meadows, our laughter like fire, 
Now the echoes of silence weave webs of desire. 
 
Oh, last of Kugu Sorta, where have you gone? 
The spirits are weeping, the night stretches long. 
In the heart of the forest, your memory fades, 
A whisper of sorrow in the twilight glades. 

The river runs cold, through the land once so bright, 
Carrying tales of our kin lost to night. 
We were guardians of nature, with roots deep and strong, 
Now the winds carry fragments of a forgotten song. 

Oh, last of Kugu Sorta, where have you gone? 
The spirits are weeping, the night stretches long. 
In the heart of the forest, your memory fades, 
A whisper of sorrow in the twilight glades. 

Beneath the old oak, where we carved our names, 
Now lies a shadow, consumed by the flames. 
The fires of our forebears flicker and die, 
As I stand here alone, with a heart full of sighs. 

The moon casts her gaze on the remnants of dreams, 
Where laughter once echoed, now silence redeems. 
With each breath I take, I can feel your embrace, 
But the fates have conspired to erase every trace. 

Oh, last of Kugu Sorta, where have you gone? 
The spirits are weeping, the night stretches long. 
In the heart of the forest, your memory fades, 
A whisper of sorrow in the twilight glades. 

So I sing to the stars, to the winds that still blow, 
To the last of Kugu Sorta, in shadows below. 
Though the world may forget you and time wears away, 
In my heart, you shall linger, forever to stay.