No more of beauty do I see in love,
The birds fly low, the wind does blow, and so,
I dwell in dusk, no daylight from above,
To where I’m headed I have yet to know.

The flowers wilted all throughout the field,
The wolves do cry, the moon, an eye, does spy,
The rain, it falls, demolishing my shield,
Portraying my immense desire to cry.

Through thick and thin the devil plays its role,
The empty air, so dull, no fair: despair,
To find true love is only but a goal,
The world revolves without a single care.

And yet, the heart, it beckons me, so sweet,
With love and passion I cannot compete.