Артур Орловский

Mr. Carden's ride a throne, I wait alone, a bitter wind to bite. Beyond the northern light, cold white coast, my holy ghost, freezing me solid, deeply frozen and pallid. She turns the tide, the gates open wide. I will follow her side. Hail to the Queen of Kamchatka, I kneel to the Queen of Kamchatka, my heavy heart. Never fall, glory in the