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Only by sacrifice will such creature, once cast into this universe of woe,

The one who goes under the name of Man!

Only by offering everything to the senses pleasure,

May it be able to sow a smattering of roses atop the thorny path of life!



And now hear me, oh creature, oh child!

Holy art thou! Thine holy name is Firmament! It is Disciple!

I see through thine virtue, for I am acquainted with every vice:

My impulses flow as Styx! Don’t you see?

How delightful are the pleasures of flagellation!

Delectable moments, when the whole of creation is grasped:

We become renderers of flesh, Explorers in the further regions of experience!

Ecstatic urges are immolated in the pyre of our certainty

And every crime is embodied! Every horror is multiplied when one delivers the blow to the temple!

We cut the image of divinity, we penetrate the semblance of which is Holier than Creation

And we, Becometh! We know the Truth:

All victories are opposed, brought into flames!

Were He supreme, were He mighty, were He just, were He good -

Would He through enigmas instill servitude?

It has come to pass that the wicked tread upon flowers,

Such are as ashes under our feet!

And we will Preach: it is preferable to abandon oneself to the tide rather than to resist it

Reason needs no further strength! It thus conforms to the Law

Scribed from fear, never from hope, never from duty!

And now hear me, oh creature, oh child!

Holy art thou! Thine holy name is Inferno! It is Accuser!

I see through thine eyes, for I am the many Within:

Our impulses flow as Styx! Don’t you see?

The great Harvest draws near, how shall we pluck the seed of creation?

To sow another reality, if not from ourselves?

How shall we water the fruits we bear, if not with our blood?

Through the Love of One’s fate