The mourning lullabies, gathering in colorful numbers
The empty dreams that my mind seem to lose track of
While my soul, silently slumbers, into the empty darkness
And the echoes of the outside world, are softly left behind
Black as night; night as the blacker silence that envelopes
And the graves of my charitable guide that proceeds upon
Dust in the distance, thus the dust that scatters in the dawn
Not yet spoken to the soul of a seeking spirit, such as I
The peaceful enjoyment without sorrow nor disturbance
My destiny lures me towards the oblivion that pulls me
Further down the aisles of the afterlife and the aftermath
Funeral bells surround the bed in which I eternally dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem