hurry my steeds chased by the wind

across the crystal meadows

nobody will hear the piano of melancholy

the music is dancing in my heart

in the midst of the stillness and the storm



when the past closes my feelings in the ice-chains

I will rise the mirror of my visions above the thoughts

to steal merciless the flower of the gods

which they give away falsely

and the blast of magic and the blackness of sin

will undermine my scarlet face

when the wind mutter dreadful

you will feel my kiss

when the wind blows into the horns

you will feel the flames of blazing blood

because only I am the god in my secret garden