Beat your back with the whip,
You are tortured with hot iron.
You are worthless heretic,
Can be cleansed only with fire.

I'm dying in embrace of the flame,
And their throats are spewing curses,
They hate me, and violently crave
For my death in a long torture.

"Repent," - shouted the priest
Confess to your loathsome deed,
I know you talk to evil spirit
You're in plot with the devil, don't deny it.

Beat your back with the whip,
You are tortured with hot iron.
You are worthless heretic,
Can be cleansed only with fire.

I'm dying in embrace of the flame,
And their throats are spewing curses,
They hate me, and violently crave
For my death in a long torture.

My body is tormented by tortures
But I have no words for the inquisitors,
To cleanse me there is only the fire
From devil's mark, from evil's stigmas.

When I'll soon face the Almighty,
I'll have nothing to say, I'll be sorry.
I don't think that the fire had cleansed me
I have no place even in purgatory.

They gloat,
Wait for me with impatience,
Cause now I belong to them.