When the Everlasting Gardens Die Away

This silent, cold moment Where the Shade is going through the orchards Eyes are opened during these dreams and then Return without sound to the stones When, under the noxious winds Eternal gardens dying away We will see the bloom of a thousand buds On the tree of Balaam During the Fall of souls The silent harvest isn't a vain task When the Shade is haunting The orchard Death caresses the decrepit bodies How can you be certain that Death is a gift A power that everyone possesses? On the straw-bed of my cold chamber Where the roof has been destroyed by the assault from the skies I'm filled with anguish (when I let the blade run on my arm) To be unable to die, unable to perish, to stop breathing Sometimes, there exists monstrous things More impious that Death itself How to flee if we're unable to do it? Terminated under the yoke of torture Without anything to stop this nightmare When the shade invades the eternal orchard When the whole baleful winds Will dance in circles Around Balaam's tree It will be the very last thing Before the terrible bloom If our flesh burns under the December sun And eyes shut and divided like dreams When, under the toxic winds Eternal Gardens are dying away At last, it flourishes the buds On the hideous -and victorious- tree of Balaam