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They’re dancing around stars
Silver shrine has opened
His black ponderous jaws
To glimpses of nebula

They are martial fools of nature
Hearsed in void out of their sepulchre
Thoughts beyond reaches of our souls,
Corpses have burst their cerements

Cannot believe
Ghost ships in darkness
Cold tombs for our friends
What may this mean?

Obsequious sorrow in obstinate condolement
Suffocating, you died with eyes wide opened
Impious stubbornness, grief
And mourning duties
This must be so, who still has cried?
Unprevailing woe.

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