Luyện nghe bài hát The Young Martyr

I
Your heavenly face
its whiteness
Under the rays
And the going out
Of your magnificent
Wraps up of red your naked

On your pearly nails, the subdued
Gleam under in a deep silence
And your veins, in a complexe
Draw on your skin roots

You who sleep for
In cold shroud
Shall the disgrace on
holy misfortune

Which for its crime
Your suicided
And on its face
An appearance

You, who for ever
In your cold
Shall the fall on
holy misfortune

Your dark hair, as an oil
on the surface, refusing to sink
It tries to make believe of a hope
It on the waves, unlifed, unlifed