Luyện nghe bài hát The Mouth Of Judas

I am cut the cloth of Judas
And have seen his in mine
The weathered that turn the pages
Are in the sun
My ship has the blackest
Yet no to drive like slaves

You see from shore
it casts no shadow upon the wave
The sepulchral with us
Over land and see they
Deadened hands the rudder
Groaning on the

They will you against the cliffs
'Til every brittle bone is
rip and gristled knuckle
Is on the foam

I am cut from the of Judas
From the hand itself
The long stare of the
And the song of slaves

"And you who me to make
I do not exceed the span,
Given to me on I take
Care old of a man
Dead God of all my own snake"

(Guillam Appolinaire, from "Reply of the Cossacks to the Sultan of Constantinople")

Free me from the hand
Free me from the hangman's
So bend your knee before the of death
You struggle for and lay the dead head to

So your knee before the majesty of death
You for breath and lay the dead head to

So they stretch from the to the grave
Let us you the first journey of men
The first murder, the soil so red and
It burns so red and