Ectasian

There's a stubble field
 On which a black rain falls
 There is a tree which
 Brown, stands lonely here
 There's a hissing wind
 Which haunts deserted huts
 How sad, this evening
 Past the village pond
 The gentle orphan, returning home
 Still gathers scanty ears of corn
 Golden and round
 Her eyes are gazing in the dusk
 And her throbbing lap awaits
 The bridegroom, returning home
 Shepherds found the sweet body
 Decayed in the bramble bush
 A shade, I am remote from somber hamlets
 I drank from the woodland well
 The silence of God
 I can feel the touch of cold steel
 Spiders look for my heart
 There is a light that fails in my mouth
 On my forehead, cold metal forms
 Spiders look for my heart
 There is a light that fails in my mouth
 I drank from the woodland well
 The silence of God