Let's see , when rises
smoke
Far over my grave.
I will never be your ,
I'll be the weeping willow .
And in the darkness in eternal sleep I
shrouded ,
Beautiful, hard,
insensitively .
And that life is not boring ,
Since then the bad finger
not touched.
You'll remember me passionately
favorite
For many years of torment.
Such as before
happy ,
And when you asked
sorry.
You will come to the grave
distant ,
And the rain on her
proplachesh .
Tell me about life
lonely ,
The fact that in the soul of the other quietly hiding .
( c) Roman Halliwell