With a last croaking gasp, I came to you in darkest hour
Weak limbs, nearly dead, my misty way seemed endless to me
An anguished path in dark bohemian woods
Hope to escape the Miasma track
Hear my words, don't retreat, while others fall I've got salvation
Through the banned mile I crept, hunted by eyes, I surely know too well
My wounded bones haven't failed till now
Against the time that clasped my beloved
Sentenced to d**h by the fog of deceased
Like a merciless storm of hellish rage
By the life of mine, give me the dear serum
Blessed be thy name, in the coming days of our recovery
In the days of joy, when a cold wind will arise
To scour the land and blow the stench away