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Love and Death are made in hell,

No one is here to spit in the well,

And still you can't find:

All the reasons are blind -

Neither Love, nor Death.

For you there is nothing left,

But silently wait, and soundlessly scream,

And watch with calm and despair,

As loving in purpose of being in there,

A stupid heart of thyself bleed.

And a little soul or a ghost right behind you,

Flying and crying, trying to hide you,

From both Death and Love,

That makes you starve,

And having nothing there for you,

But a little Life in hand,

That will be along with you

Both in paradise with Gan,

And a Devil, rose in hell.