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Those who cowardly wait for death
By cold soil will be embraced
When the eyes're struck by dread
And the mouth to blue turned

Before them the purple courtain
Of somber secrets will not rise
Only for those, who stand before it
Bravely, and proudly tear it apart

Oh, brave ones, who stood there firmly
Where the silent mistery drones
And called for their servant: Death
Who with modest humility appeared

The scent of blooming flowers
On their still yet warm hearts wavers
Oh, glorious, who bravely, over, there
with youthful spirits went.

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