Along the cliff, over the abyss, On the very edge
I lash my horses with my whip - I urge them on!
I donít have enough air: I drink the wind, I swallow the fog,
I feel with disastrous delight: Iím fading, Iím fading!
Slow down a little, my horses, Just a little slower,
Do not listen to the sharp lash.
But it seems Iíve ended up with capricious horses
And I havenít had time to live, No time to finish my song.
Iíll give my horses a drink, Iíll finish singing my verse,
And for only just a moment longer, Iíll stand on the edge...