A garment of wool made by knitting
Is made for the finest of fitting
For a warrior to join the strife
And gain on the pathway of this life
Lo, see them raging, thousands ahead
A vale full of pain and crimson red
Shall I ever temper these forces?
Those who taunt us on all our courses
Lurking in the pit of death
With my mate's blood for a bed
I call up your lively face
Vital contrast with this maze
Where demise is at one's tail
And the vultures of hell wail
Your astounding beauty far away
The only thing I feel is dismay
lo, no more I shall see you again
'cause I already am a dead man
Crimson red ruby cloth of wool...
No more dismay, no more pain, Hades...
The fire of desire cooled down
And you, left alone without knowing