Vehemence 'hemence grows like a watered plant,
together with a mountain of profligacy,
Fighting us with an unkind rulership,
Driving our pretty hole to hell

our voice they poured away,
letting our moan grow in force,
death has invaded battalions pretty souls,
yet, they never want to bury them

the tempest has encamped our home,
Carrying away our bell in rage,
with depravity slipping our stand,
O, wind of sorrow splashes heavily

weak wicked soldier of the land,
mouth cut with a bountiful coin,
Motions hurdles with crookedness,...