Love and Death are made in hell,
No one is here to spit in the well,
And still you can't find:
All the reasons are blind -
Neither Love, nor Death.
For you there is nothing left,
But silently wait, and soundlessly scream,
And watch with calm and despair,
As loving in purpose of being in there,
A stupid heart of thyself bleed.
And a little soul or a ghost right behind you,
Flying and crying, trying to hide you,
From both Death and Love,
That makes you starve,
And having nothing there for you,
But a little Life in hand,
That will be along with you
Both in paradise with Gan,
And a Devil, rose in hell.