In white

Twenty girls in white dressed

a symbol of my years passed

Sad now they stand over the forehead 

upon which I put together life and death.

A bouquet of roses, in the hand of each, 

with my blood is sodden.

Toward me, hand by hand they reach, 

but not open to the world of forgotten.

While I observe

Through a bright wave

To the shadow I shall not confer 

Because to me they gave

The life to live,

Not to surrender.

A bright lake above

and a heavy darkness below

by awful nightmares the body is torn 

as deep wounds harm.