The unknown dead

Behold the flowers of a spring so soon

Its harvest leaf in foul brown bloom

Whirling fog and a cauldron of stew

A seer's drench haggard witches' brew

Es werde Nacht...

Trembling choirs from children in their graves mouldring so young

Old corses' morbid grace

Oh, I hear them, still don't fear them!

...und es werde Finsternis!

Here's to you ye unknown Dead!

Twinkle at your misthung battlefield

Or breathe in the moist den's bed

Dem Totenvolk der Kelch des Sehens...

Uncloak me miracles from a Kingdom

Come, king of the woods, lords of the Atlas

Whispering takes long lost and gone

Den Lebenden der Trank des Hexers!

From bloodstained Stargates to hellish forges

And skyelad summits to the eeriest gorges

But now depart for my road goes yonder

A road that darkens while in light I wander

But pierced with beams when everything's sombre