Oltárom a fagyöngy, szomjamnak nyugtatója.

Oltárom az emberi csont, életemnek földi porja.

Oltárom a késem, véremnek utat mutatója.

Oltárom a természet hangja, a mindenség megalkotója.


A homály, a rejtély, a vágyódás, a beavatás.

Szorongás, félelem, titokzatosság, a megfoghatatlan.

A dob szelleme, a bagoly lelke, a hold szeme, a rét ereje.

Testvéreim keze. Hitem tüze. Dallamos igéje. A kapu kulcsa.


On my altar a mistletoe, calming my thrist

On my altar the human bone, terral sand of my life

On my altar my knife, showing the way of my blood

Voice of the nature on my altar, creator of the universe.


The mist, the mystery, the desire, the initation.

Anxiety, fright, secretfulness, the inconceivabl.

Spirit of the drum, soul of owl, eye of the moon, strength of the field.

Had of my brothers. Fire of my faith. Words of the tunes. Key to the gate.


Voice of the river, the orator of fright, flying tortures in the kettle, mingle of doubt

Where power is endless, and anonymously dark, bringing fog on our eyes, conscious hope

The seal of respect gets on our soul's shield, I bend forward with respect in the feast, over image of the gate

Carved bodies with entwined hands, the last sign of the power of the round gate


We step through the gate of the naturem at the end of the floor, we find rest


There was a time when man spoke through souls the dead looked after our steps

Once man hoped with mind, so as the son of the mountain, the stone crashes their heart


We were born... recalled... sacrificed... buried...