Life is spent, nothing but a faint voice stayed,
My last breath to those who follow,is conveyed.
I know not what will become of me in the beyond,
Just the melody of a broken plectrum has stayed.

From yesterday’s memories that passed and fled,
From tongues I thought were friends,who left things unsaid,
From the words we ever repeated like a chant,
The lyric,suited for its mode, now dry and dead.

The past has yellowed, as if by autumn slain,
Those rose-like faces are wrapped in sorrow’s chain.
When it all blew away and vanished with a gust,
What happened,happened; only grief and pain remain.

We were the birds who sang, “The future’s near!”
For an ideal,we flew, banishing fear.
Now it’s our turn to fly to the great beyond,
This false world’s empty melody is all we hear.

Life is spent, nothing but a faint voice stayed…
My last breath to those who follow,is conveyed…