In the fields of Haima the black roses grow.
In the fields of Haima the wind sings songs of sorrow and the dark sky cries.
In the fields of Haima the dark bushes bleed.
In the fields of Haima each thorn holds a different poison and the river whispers of a thousand heartbreaks.
Hearts break, hope dies and the sky a thousand tear drops cries
In the fields of Haima.
