Tempus Vincit Omnia
"A faraway prayer carried by the evening wind,
animates the leaves in their languorous dance.
It's the hymn of the old trees, sung for you,
for those somber forests which are now asleep.
So many seasons have passed without waiting for us, the golden leaves falling to the ground to die will someday come back to life beneath a radiant sky,
but our eroded world will remain the same,
and tomorrow, you and I will be gone."
- Autre Temps by Alcest translated from French