| 作曲 : Steffen Thümmel | |
| 作词 : Steffen Thümmel | |
| With a last croaking gasp, I came to you in darkest hour | |
| Weak limbs, nearly dead, my misty way seemed endless to me | |
| An anguished path in dark bohemian woods | |
| Hope to escape the Miasma track | |
| Hear my words, don't retreat, while others fall I've got salvation | |
| Through the banned mile I crept, hunted by eyes, I surely know too well | |
| My wounded bones haven't failed till now | |
| Against the time that clasped my beloved | |
| Sentenced to death by the fog of deceased | |
| Like a merciless storm of hellish rage | |
| By the life of mine, give me the dear serum | |
| Blessed be thy name, in the coming days of our recovery | |
| In the days of joy, when a cold wind will arise | |
| To scour the land and blow the stench away |
| zuo qu : Steffen Th mmel | |
| zuo ci : Steffen Th mmel | |
| With a last croaking gasp, I came to you in darkest hour | |
| Weak limbs, nearly dead, my misty way seemed endless to me | |
| An anguished path in dark bohemian woods | |
| Hope to escape the Miasma track | |
| Hear my words, don' t retreat, while others fall I' ve got salvation | |
| Through the banned mile I crept, hunted by eyes, I surely know too well | |
| My wounded bones haven' t failed till now | |
| Against the time that clasped my beloved | |
| Sentenced to death by the fog of deceased | |
| Like a merciless storm of hellish rage | |
| By the life of mine, give me the dear serum | |
| Blessed be thy name, in the coming days of our recovery | |
| In the days of joy, when a cold wind will arise | |
| To scour the land and blow the stench away |
| zuò qǔ : Steffen Th mmel | |
| zuò cí : Steffen Th mmel | |
| With a last croaking gasp, I came to you in darkest hour | |
| Weak limbs, nearly dead, my misty way seemed endless to me | |
| An anguished path in dark bohemian woods | |
| Hope to escape the Miasma track | |
| Hear my words, don' t retreat, while others fall I' ve got salvation | |
| Through the banned mile I crept, hunted by eyes, I surely know too well | |
| My wounded bones haven' t failed till now | |
| Against the time that clasped my beloved | |
| Sentenced to death by the fog of deceased | |
| Like a merciless storm of hellish rage | |
| By the life of mine, give me the dear serum | |
| Blessed be thy name, in the coming days of our recovery | |
| In the days of joy, when a cold wind will arise | |
| To scour the land and blow the stench away |
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