Žalm 71 [English translation]

Three black ants

drown in the doe's tear.

Signs on the wreath

and the thorns on crown.

We fall under the weight

and try to crawl over,

dragging on the cross

own loneliness and pain.

The sky is pink,

on the cross path

perhaps we finally demise

like wheat in spikelet.

We demise without anger,

grown into the wood.

After all, the worst crime

is promoting love.

We ride on carriage

in which we'll survive

with the painting of monarch

whom we love.

We cry for youth,

we're old, thankfully.

We scream the Ode to joy

that we're not martyrs.

The sky is pink,

on the cross path

perhaps we finally demise

like wheat in spikelet.

We demise without anger,

grown into the wood.

After all, the worst crime

is promoting love.

The ninth1 is finished

and the comedy's ending.

Instead of Pilate

today the world is washing hands.

He makes the cross himself

and he himself is forging the nails,

and the king is sacral,

the Destiny2 is being played.

The sky is pink,

on the cross path

perhaps we finally demise

like wheat in spikelet.

We demise without anger,

grown into the wood.

After all, the worst crime

is... promoting love.

1. Beethoven's Symphony No. 92. Beethoven's Symphony No. 5, often called "Osudová", meaning destiny or fate.