I bless the rain delay, as I bequeath my yesterday
Rain ends, hope fades We gather at the runway
I have nothing to declare, so empty-handed
I was declaring myself as a martyr, when she said:
"Embrace me, my beloveth, once again, before thou depart
Bequeath to me thy moonlight
I shalt devote to thee my hindmost cry
Thy bequest changeth seasons, Rain Falleth, hope is gone
Thy leaving is no sojourn Lachrymose in widow's weeds,
Grievous, I am burying my dreams of thee"