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ich bin alt und blind
sehen Sie, daĂź ich Ihnen mich gebe
eine Feder des Stahls
wenn ich zurĂĽck zu Masse gehe
eins nach dem anderen wie verläßt von einem Baum
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
die langen resounding Marmorflure
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
ein Blick ist aber ein Strahl
ich loathed Sie
Nobility des Todes wieder

 



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