Hell, Covering All With Its Gloomy Vapors,

Ah, Why Can't I Know If I Love, Or If I Hate?

What Does It Matter If, By Chance, A Little Vile Blood Be Spilled?

On The Throne, One Has Many Worries; And Remorse Is The One That Weighs The Least.

He Who Bridles The Fury Of The Billows Knows Also To Put A Stop To The Secret Plans Of The Wicked. Submitting With Respect To His Holy Will, I Fear God, And Have No Other Fear.

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.