मूल बोल
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The blackness of the Night profund
dyed with o colour of flower
The flowers of love, desire and fulfillment...
Why do they call my felling a sin?!
Why do they call my sin infernal love ?!
Love... another empty word,
the brat of human mind.
Those cannot love whose bodies
are torn by jealous looks of slaves.
The streams of blasphemous blood head towards divine eternity;
Pitful howl of wolves in the silent Night...
This is a name of love
The blasphemous eternal beauty,
My lonesome song,
The essence of my life,
The passionate truth sprinkled with cursed blood, my blood
The blood of Fallen Angel.
