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Saarboth's mirror, the witch fallen into oblivion, is now back from the grave.

Buried with the remains of the immolated witch, the three skull's mirror of death,

Reflection of human slaves, open the door of the other world.

Brocken hill, Walpurgis night, witches and magician novices are wearing their supernatural form

Instead of their material appearance.

Courageous and powerful, decipher the formulas,

Engrave on the three hecate's skull, to enter the spiritual dimension.

"Hecate portam aperit"

And from the mirror come a great sea

Invading everything around it and absorbing everything.

And I plunge into the open gate,

Like attracted by the secret hidden beyond.

And I let the fate drive my life.

Sailing beneath the surface of the water,

I can feel the liquid spirit flowing around me.

And I can feel them refreshing my mind.

My well-being's frozen the real thing.

Nothing can bring me out of this.

The light work me one's way through the oceans.

In the water, I can see the waves of generation

Which crash and die on the beach.

My soul dissolving in the sea salt

Is increasing my secret shapeless sense.

Sailing beneath the surface of the water

And swimming to the angels cries, my body falls and lies

At the bottom of the deep abyssal sea.

The black spirit invades every parts and every secret cell of me.

Forsaken by his master who gives way to his pleasure.

My lost breath of faith crashes into the dark side of the deep sea.

And beyond the gleam of the material appearance,

I can see the real me with my dark and lighted bright.

And when I cross the threshold, I wear my immaterial form.

I can roam in satiety between life and death

The other side, my mind flowing in the waves of generation.