Eliot

Frame my heart in paschal blood
and paint signs of warding on my brow.

Es geht dir gut, ja?
Mais, j'ai peur.
Es solamente un sueño.
Stilte. Slaap.

I saw him trampling out that vintage,
saw his feet upon the mountains.

Was tust du hier?
No quiero morir.
Ah, je t'aime.
Quid ergo dicemus ad haec si Deus pro nobis
qui contra nos?