I open up the portal of glory
looking for the word path that is absent now
in the memory your saving call?
with astonishment and fear it goes away
now, only in a sonorous cold
in the horizon
I rise up,
with the heaven burning in flames
and the mourner tears
spilling souls of both kingdoms
visions of doom and ascent

now, only a sonorous cold
and in the horizon...

The dying creator's glance
is hidden in my eyes

Look, at the wound, in the prophet's footstep,
on his knees to the heaven,
falls down before me
your soulless body

Strange, incandescent mountain,
WASH YOUR HANDS in this abyss,
and from the diffuse dark horizon,
RELEASE the bleeding song.

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