O mortis secretum, ubi finis nervorum? O funeris algor, ubi sonus somniorum?
The insane wine of the night misled my soul At the confluence of dream and of pain... We dance under the closed eyes of paradise, And our eyes tear the insane space of the light.
Saltemus sub oculis coniventibus paradisi!
The voilence of the winter moon spreads a mantle Of cold icy pain over my petrified landscape. Seized by the freezing frosts of the diabolic winter, Our hearts breathe the winds of sadness.
But what is in my heart can only be read by the winds That gathered my words of pain. The veil of the nigth falls at your feet Revealing the views of the fiery sky. Kyrie eleison. The gentle sapphirian night wrapped me in its maternal warmth And her hair, studded with stars, had a scent of sensuality As I lay embraced in her sweet caress. How tender is the nigth in her amorous delights.
Where are the flowers I gave you, my love? The amaranth, the rose and the lily.
Buried within the glacial vault of my thoughts, Take from me this fading breath, Enfold me in your veil of darkness To celebrate the reign of black eternal night.
And in the snows, glittering in the cold fragile moonlight, Appeared the incandescent flowers... The blood of angels, Said one of our round. "Our blood".
We dance... ...and the blowing of the winds is our only music, We dance.
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