Spirits that cry
Voices mixed with the darkness on the open outside
Graves and worms that tear flesh apart
Screams outside bring me the rumors of the end of all work
Just as it will do in the sad song of a poet
Stood outside, his sad face observes me, his action
the punishment that brings me the peace with tears were shed
I don't listen to the sing of the birds and the Angel in a sad gesture leaned his wings
Afraid of the down, I cry, and it is raised the sentencer post in the tribunal of holy office
This is the hour that crowds will walk under the light of whose name had already been pronounced in heaven
I make a song for the immortals longing the conquer of eternity
Purified by the inquisitor fire, I'm washed by the flames of the decide ones contemplation
In my torments I glorify myself about my actions
Setenced to death a big bonfire was lit for me.
Martirized by the pope demency, the crowed of violence start with its followers ready,
The tyrant manifests it self, I'll keep my duty, I'll follow as a sheep to be degolated
In a slaughter-house I arrive to the place of my sorrow,
praying all the time
They set the fire and I hand in my soul to the one I served in hope of an eternal reward
And on the highest grave I see a tree with his open wings
And once more, it was written: Rest in place! |
