In the dim night in his fornications he went
To the cradle of pearl flowers
Death's cradle
The gray procession closed under him
To the sublime and sweet last condition
On the palm of the forest a tongue sprouts
Death cherishes its own
Goes to the lands of persecution
The path of life only longs for one
And look, not a single tear is visible
In the bosom of the earth
Old age lies
Steps of time
Listening above
Falling to the ground
And kneels down
Walks with his destiny
Life fades from his face
When the sky already shines

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