The moon is a bloodied shield. The coming time's known less and less. My heart, arise, arise. Resurrection is not for all. The still snow is still as if dead.
Sin spreads out over the town.
Stilly I weep, I weep for all. In a small town, Where there are eternal twilights And eternal bells. And big tulips in the window-sills. And maybe, You would not even love me . . . But even with heavenly beauty Would she try in vain To eclipse my golden crown.