[Part One]
This is a world blessed by the victims
Of carnal tragedy
The humans ritual of love and adoration
Dense-woven history
Sentiments decide existance, the artwork that I've bled
Bizarre she defined her presence
With the lament of the undead
When her eyes have bathed in danger
And the moon had new design
In the cradle of our desire all the blood has turned to wine
But the love no longer remained than just a stir to survive
In this labyrinth of perfidity for my mistress to recover
I'll forever strive...
[Part Two]
Dem Sterbenden - die Hoffnung
Dem Propheten - Der Fluch
Der Liebe - die Dichtung, die dem Sterben entsprung...
The night is crystal clear - words are sent from pictures
Sounds that I can't hear - as weakness wins my body
Selling cheap my soul - and its bleeding heart
Eclipsing the whole - planet, history and light...
[Part Three]
Sometimes, when the sun hides in the back of the earth
When the hungry souls, to whom pain gave birth
Embalm their coldness with the blood's warmth... then
I can clearly hear the calling of a lonely and distant star
In the shade of the abhorrent
Yet in the still of the nights - In the still of the moment
When the moment dies
There she gently approaches
With the new meaning of life...
In a haze of hazard, in the withering chill
Baleful's the passion, when hearts stand still
A flood of sentiments entwined
Rattle thru my falling soul
I slumber against the spirit of time
Like a stranger in a foreign world!
In a park, along the alleys, stained with blood and tears
In the hour, when dusk disperses
Its colors on the white statues
Then I'll wander as a phantom of the posthumous regrets
And my fiery lips I'll freeze
With the kiss of these unrivalled statues
"Si-n asta noapte sfirsese printr-un sarut
Poeme - agonizate de-un infinit si-un
