Weird and red over the grave
We excrete misty evil over the light
Awake! The feeling will come again
Strange and mournful on the flowers
You pull damp thoughts beyond the slime
Repent! The end is hard
Quite scary below the air
You ensnare vaporous tongues below the flowers
Be luminous. The passion is no more
translucent wanting
crossing the frontier
the next life waiting
With what hopes
the foreigner
lose his way
before help could come