She's wearing a black dress today,
The veil closed the slits of her eyes,
Airy smoke scents,
As if the sun's light had gone out.
The stars were blazing over the capital.
Watching the crowds of men,
What was given into the hands of the priestess,
Using nicotine.
In that ritual of ceremonies,
Whether the executioner, the witch, all the same,
The living energy of agony -
Drugs, love, wine.
Myth shudder Breakfast is luxurious,
Beauty is sad now,
She stalks like a cat,
With traps of screaming eyes.