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Those who cowardly wait for death

By cold soil will be embraced

When the eyes're struck by dread

And the mouth to blue turned

Before them the purple courtain

Of somber secrets will not rise

Only for those, who stand before it

Bravely, and proudly tear it apart

Oh, brave ones, who stood there firmly

Where the silent mistery drones

And called for their servant: Death

Who with modest humility appeared

The scent of blooming flowers

On their still yet warm hearts wavers

Oh, glorious, who bravely, over, there

with youthful spirits went.