Ramadhan

If I should die,

I beg you carry me,

To where my loves lie,

and there let me be,

and If one kiss,

On my cold lips

she gives,

Don't worry, that by this,

Again I live.

Paradise people say,

Waits for us above,

With wine for all the day,

and shining eyes to love,

I preffer my current wine,

and my sweetie fair,

Seeing at the end,

These waits again,

for us there.