Sickness born with life    She is a careful and patient shadow    Man’s faithful enemy    Unceasingly transformed, rebaptized      Behind a different mask    I know it’s always the same face,    Always the same eyes greedy for agony    Always the same compassionate ears    Listening to our moans,    To our Heartbeats      Passive and disinterested    Like an infidel wife    This cold and wet mouth    Will give us the very last kiss      Death is red,    For those who experience her torments      Bound to death like a daughter to her mother    She gives her mass graves overflowing    Of sketched life, of projects and hopes      What’s good to see her so active      Abandoned, in the arms of another plague    Humanity slowly disappears    Someone prays, some others cry      What’s good to see her so active