I rend the air with my old sword I commend my soul to God I?m fatally hurt but not by a knight When I hear the sound of the blade I recall all the blood
field I rend the air with my old sword I commend my soul to God I?m fatally hurt but not by a knight When I hear the sound of the blade I recall all
ترجمه: تاریکی اهل شمال افریقا. صدای تیغه.