In your long march, covered with the Virgin's veil You hear the bell's distant sound, which annouce my dark funeral.
Throught the shadows of the hood, you try to fly the memories, which indefatigably nights and days, come haunting your mind.
And however you see me again, still and always... Kneeded in the desolation, The face sadded, By the last blooming, Of the bloody rose... This rose,
I couldn't steal to the loneliness, I press it in my hands, Under the mysterious statues' look to the dead eyes without emotions,
And in spite of all your exertions in this world quiet and cold, You don't reach to catch your tears and this last kiss on my cold lips, You know yet that you're only kissing the Death...
Our sobs intermix themselves in the night immensity, Where i withdraw myself for ever in the loneliness, Letting the winds of despair, Caress your gentle face...