In silence, the voice of deads, too low for the ignorant ears.
Time, a deceiver, see!you hardly hear me.

Hatred is the tree in "desert serenity", love shall never to be
Sleeping with eternal sanity, you shall never see any of thee

Drawth near in the gloom the twilight of wisdom in your own lies
There'll be no sun shine reflecting your grave, please give me no hope
The door is far away you cannot create a way

Thoroughly, breaks a storm of doom
You all listen to me, give up this slavish beauty
You all listen to me, give up what the holy gives thee
Give up what the holy one gives thee
Fly in the vital existence of dreams, to the east and to the west
Death to the weakling, wealth to the strong
Passion, imagination and addiction
Countesses of hatred whom i love intensly, you wear the robe of stoicism
"ı am of them that liveth forever
Arise you sons of hatred and love, visit the earth"

Singing curses in the midday of indulgence
From their eys run seas of blood
Happy are them with ownings and blessings of godly lies
.....those be the thunders of wisdom; slaveselves
Lanterns of sorrow stings bitterly
"ıneffably mildewed minds
And their pleasures dwell in the air"