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I am the dust of eternity, a moth in an extinguished lamp

Covered with memories on a dark rotten veranda

Surrounded by a lake of bloodied lawn

Where I planted the flowers of innocent souls

That bloom in my head when the darkness comes

And when the steel of the heavy gate creaks in the distance

Quoting ominous litanies in the wind

The rustling grasses point a finger at me

Insects around the light whisper fearfully of me

The old chair is silent together with the table

And the rusty chalice looks sadly into nothingness

Only the gold on my finger glitters with a familiar sparkle

Rustling grasses, filthy lawn

Soaks with blood, moth in the lamp

Insect corpses pointing at me

Sacra doctrina, sacra

Like a lighthouse on the sea, among the boundless mists

That once showed me how not to get lost in this world

It shone with love from the abyss of dirt

Like a polar star in a clear sky

Today you can't see it, covered with a bloody veil

Now, deluding myself,

Maybe hope will bring comfort at dawn