Good Bye,
Erszébeta Bathory,
all signs
remain in the desk,
you will
absent in memory
and I will
enjoy with the next;
be happy,
my little Erszébeta,
in fall
come again the grapes,
this fool
soul remain forever,
great light
will merge our raves,
at sky we reach an armistice,
the peace
between our mistakes,
sunrise to
me in the land of never:
this dame sens
merci thinking it twice,
this still tramp
with his fakes:
universal was our delirant fever!
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