Dusk sets a dull gloom
I receive the night like a mistress to my bed
The eerie sound of beating drums from afarTo summon those to the Isle of the dead
On this field of life, the seed we sowLet us reep the love, our lives thread
As the peasant yields, to recite the 'angelus'His hand reaches out for thy bread...
BEHOLD!! " Yea, it is I, the whore of your bed, and from my loins expend, furious passion without end!ALAS!! " yea, it is I, the fallen as said, I renounce your passage to the Isle of the dead!"
