On a chilly sunny morning of May
My eyes try to catch up with what is going on
They only recall the nights which in dungeons I laid
Odour of incenses... warmth of torchfires
Men wearing black hooded robes are closing me
Golden crosses glow as they light my pyre
We purify thy soul with these flames
And baptize you..."
"Never! You can burn me, bastards
But you can never take my faith
I spit on your cross and curse you
In the name of the spirits of my fathers!"
Despisable betrayers of your people
I will never ever accept your faith
Rather I burn at the stake!"