I, the dark one, god's flame among the gales,
flying away moaning, like a hollow bell of the north.
I ignite the red dawn in the gloom of mountains
with a spark of my pains and star of my impotence
I, the king of comets, but still my spirit is unsteady,
like desert's dust shaping an aerial pyramid.
I'm the storm's thunder, but quieter then a tomb
I hide my graves hideous and cadaverous
I, the abyss of rainbows, but still I mourn for myself
like ice cold wind between a pond's withered canes.
I glow of volcanoes, but through muddy plains
I walk, like a funeral, with boredom and mourning
The sea is playing harps; it billows the heaven's fire
and sun, my enemy sun! It rises hailing god.
