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Elis, when the blackbird calls in the black forest
This is your downfall
Let your lips drink the coolness of the blue rocky spring
Leave when your forehead bleeds quietly
Ancient legends
And dark interpretation of the flight of birds
But you walk with soft steps through the night
The full of purple grapes hangs
And you move your arms more beautifully in the blue< br/>A thorn bush sounds
Where your rotting eyes are
Oh, how long ago, Elis, you died
Black dew drips on your temples
>The last gold of decayed stars
Your body is a hyacinth
In which a monk dips his fingers
A black cave is our silence
From this sometimes
A gentle animal steps
And slowly lowers its heavy eyelids
Black dew drips onto your temples
The last gold of decayed stars
On your temples ¤fen drips black dew
The last gold of decayed stars