Rage Against The Machine - Revolver

In summer, the fugitive returns to her native land, and her heart trembles in anticipation of love! The village, the castle, the garden - all joyfully meets her. Roses and lilies in magnificent color delightfully and bashfully turn their eyes to her, bushes and trees enthusiastically greet their favorite. And only for one of them - ah! for the noblest - she returned too late. She gazes woefully at his dried-up crown, her fingers glide along the lifeless trunk and gently touch the fragile ends of the branches. He will never see and recognize his patroness again. How she weeps, how touching her pleas and inconsolable suffering!