---

The last stars are twinkling on the firmament,
haze rises up darkening those stars.
A tyrant wields the sceptre, who lures with subterfuge,
yester thoughts of liberty resign themselves to servitude.

Forlorn in distress,
lonesome in restless pain.

Although I yearn for my quietus or for reprieve,
thou holdst me enthralled, enterst my subconscious.

Deep in my mind I hear the sign
and I realise that my heart is thine.

My last stars are hiding on the firmament,
thou hast risen up, darkened those stars.
Thou smotherst light, makest dry up my fountains,
enshroudst my glint, henceforth I belong to thee.

Forlorn in distress,
lonesome in restless pain.

---

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