On black horses with no bits,
nor saddles nor stirrups,
through the domain of the dead
go two white musicians.
They ride at a hellish galop,
while scraping at their fiddles
with iron bows,
having strings of hair.
At the thunder of the hard hooves,
at the bright sound of the violins,
the dead come out of the tombs.
Let's danse and caper.
And the joyful dead
follow with breathtaking leaps,
with a flame in their eyes,
red in their white skulls.
And the white musicians,
on their black horses with no bits
Come to a stop, and here's what
the musicians say to the dead:
The first says, in a voice
ringing like a dulcimer
"Do you want to live twice?
Come, my name is Life!"
And all, even the poorest
who had had nothing to enjoy,
in a burst of passion all
the dead answered "Yes!"
The the other, in a voice
which sighed like a horn,
said to them "To live twice,
you have to love again!
So live, then! Entwine together!
Come, my name is Love!"
But all, even the most stupid,
the dead answered "No!"
and their fingers fleshless,
showing their hearts in shreds,
with cries of the damned,
went back into their tombs.
And the white musicians
on their black horses with no bits
nor saddles nor stirrups
allowed the dead to sleep.