Letra de Ballade C.3.3

Yet, each man kills the things he loves But each, let this be heard Some do it with a bitter look Some with a flattering word The coward does it with a kiss The brave man, with a sword Some kill their loved when they are young Some when they are old Some strangle with the hands of lust Some with the hands of gold The kindest use a knife Because the dead so soon grow cold Some love too little Some too long Some sell and others buy Some do a deed with money tears Some without a sigh For each man kills the thing that he loves Yet, each man kills the things he loves By each, let this be heard Some do it with a bitter look Some with a flattering word The coward does it with a kiss The brave man, with a sword Some kill their loved when they are young Some when they are old Some strangle with the hands of lust Some with the hands of gold The kindest use a knife Because the dead soon grow cold Some love too little Some too long Some sell and others buy Some do a deed with money tears Some without a sigh For each man kills the thing that he loves