Hundreds of ghosts fly like fireflies in the night sky,
The air is saturated with freshness and tranquility.
But this is all just an optical illusion, this is the worst lie,
This is the invisible and fragile nakedness of your soul, which has come to know masculinity.

Dance while you have strength under the crown of age-old trees,
Play like a child along with the wind and raindrops.
Stay so miserable, listen to the confession of the Mother of Oblivion, sitting on your skinned knees,
You are just a failed creation in this world, you are the future rotted corpse.

Dreams will come true only for those who deserve it,
What can you offer in return for the achievement of your goal?
Will you become a beautiful creation of nothingness or a devoured piece of meat,
Will you accept in your heart the flesh-burning brittle coal?

There is no more hope of salvation, all that remains is to pray for your sins,
This is not scary, you just have to believe and the pain will pass.
There, in the world of spirits, you will be greeted by two: a wonderful young man and a hunchbacked freak, they are two inseparable twins,
But the ending will depend on you: fly among the stars or become fertilizer for fresh grass.