Who is this woman, wlaking down the streets ?
Where is she going ?
Through the foggy night, where blows a glacial winter,
What is she doing ?
Hidden by a big silk scarf,
We can hardly see her face,
The city is a white desert,
That she crosses like a shadow,
Unreal,
Who is this woman, wlaking down the streets ?
Who is she ?
Which mysterious appointment is she going to ?
She just entered under a porch,
And, slowly, goes up the stairs,
Where is she going ?
A door is opened,
She entered without knock,
In front of her,
On a big bed, a man is lying down,
He told her "I will wait for you",
My cruel,
In the bedroom, where nothing moves,
She drew the curtains,
On a red silk cushion,
She let her jacket,
And, beautilful like a married,
In her long white lace dress,
She leaned over him, who seemed amazed,
What does she say ?
She went down the stairs, and went out in streets,
Where is this woman going, wearing lace ?
Who is she ?
She is the last wife,
The one who comes whitout be called,
The faithful woman,
She is the wife of the last hour,
The one who comes when we cry,
The cruel,
It's the Death who walks down the streets,
Be craeful,
Close your windows,
To keep her out of your home,
This woman is the Death,
The Death, the Death, the Death