کورتە

The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart / In your cold room / The silence that makes you mine / Fall, stars / She sat around and counted them all a million times / My name no one will know / And if my love were in vain / Oh God, I would want to die! / She was the roughest, toughest frail / In your cold room look at the trembling stars / I am pining, I am tormented! / but my mystery is closed in me / Have pity / I’ll win at dawn and we must alas die / Have pity / Death and despair flame about me