When the soul is unable, to put a hope to you
the heart is hidden deep, to prevent suffering
dark shadows will sag on the walls
painful memories are pushed into the chest.
The hands get cold and death transforms the body into a sculpture
a face with no shadows, gives a calm smile on lips
marble plates under cold legs of sepulchral statue talk about life
then the confused heart flies at the end of the world
to make tears, to come for help.
I don't think about dead people, it's only willows
humming through the silence
leaves on a stone path, sing a funeral melody
they pave a humble road of life to the door of death
cursing words penetrate a hungry soul.
What will go on?
Time will be over and the quiet of a tomb, will caress
my face unexpectedly
black birds will fly over the gloomy coastless sea
carrying the time of dying on their wings.
