Luyện nghe bài hát The Young Martyr

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

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

You who for ever
In cold shroud
Shall the disgrace on
Your holy

sentences for its crime
Your spirit
And on its face
An appearance

You, who for ever
In your shroud
Shall the fall on
Your holy

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