الكلمات الأصلية
ENالترجمة غير متاحة بعد. نعرض الكلمات الأصلية.
The fermentation is soaking into the cells
It is transfiguring that the girl is fighting for us
The prayer of drowing is a burning daffodil
Its mass is the loneliness that is surging in the blood
Ancient rupture in the unbearable deed
I light vault clouding over us
Only i feel what both means,
If mud-mossy saliva, torn plait of hair
Thus it grows into the far-gone lige
The landscape lives on torn tufts of grass
Cold wind blows, on the silent shores
A lost king, my legislator
Is awakening
