Frozen on the marble floors of the high palaces,
That are blamed to be the lord’s actual homes!
On the walls and the roofs I saw images and the names
Of the owner of such an inviting silky drawing room,
In a new dress I decorated myself as a beautiful slave,
A bullet, my blood, I looked at the doors of retiring room.
The doors didn’t open nobody came out of the room,
I ran away wildly and saw blood of an innocent animal,
Frozen on an street of a dirty cosmopolitan town,
Who was sacrificed to save my life on a great festival!
My dirty blood that is still frozen on the white marbles,
Bid farewell to me but after a tragic bloodshed,
Was it the sacrifice of an animal that saved my life?
May be, but I still think was that guilty who was dead!