Siebenbürgen

Listen : the wind blows dim,
Atop the mountains’ rim;
The rivers flow softly,
As we, men, live slowely.

Time stands still ; we live life,
Carving our food by knife.
So it was meant to be,
Forever are we free.

Still, the crown awaits all,
On them, the dagger’ll fall.
The judgement day soon rise,
When all shall pay the prize.

The spirits be punished,
The souls all be vanished.
Green of the earth : no more,
And all the men be sore.

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