Let us rejoice: we are goners.
Everything is understood.
Useless are all of the honours,
Virtues and kindness and good
Mankind has always belauded.
After the rain comes the flood.
Who said that Time is unbodied,
When I see it covered in blood?
Its faces are losing their colour,
Its seconds go by, drop by drop,
Longing in pain for the hour
Telling the bell to stop.
How come that the only thing sacred,
A fragile and innocent life,
Is constantly ruined with hatred
Or killed in nonsensical strife?
The ghost of those previous years,
His clothing all ragged and worn,
Is mourning and shedding his tears
For those who are yet to be born.
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