This text is an automatic translation from DeepL Translate.
You know the burning stars,
The hand that caresses with a caress.
Now your face is covered by a half chair
And the liquor like the whitest snows.
None of the little ones were strangers to you
Neither in the houses nor in the street corners.
A forest of souls to cherish forever,
Imprisoned within the walls of dumbness.
You gave of yourself all that was stored
For body, soul, spirit.
And so you go as you were told
Through the darkness and weight of nothingness.
You go when the poplars bloom,
Himself weathered by Time and Eternity.
But the soul weeps not, the soul sings,
For the Giver is blessed even in death.