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Infernal nights storm over icy plains

with eyes, so cold, so black as the ground of my grave

The ashen winds are roaring,

the dank tarns breathe new life,

myths rise from vaults to sharpen the elders´ sizzling scythe

Shadows walk softly the burnin´ ground,

stroking the wounds in the crystalline light of the moon

Rise! Rise! Rise, my goddess of scorn!

my kingdom forlorn!

My queen of desire!

My burning empire!

Mighty sovereign of the elder world,

don´t let it be!

Pass me thy frozen key, I´ll melt it by the warmth of my human flesh

covering a cold, cold heart,

and as the liquid floods my tortured body

I´ll receive the essence of your pain!

I´ll fill my soul with hatred,

with unimaginable hatred

while turning into a weather- beaten rock

to be a part of thy ancient, ghoul- haunted woodlands, Franconia!

Thy curls, so green scratch the skies framing cheeks of pure gold

as forces of time graft thy charme in this solemn cold

Rise! Rise! Rise, my dark winterthrone,

my fiery home,

my monarch of blue,

my refreshing dew!

Lay back in my arms, Franconia, as I slept in yours for so long!

Close thy lids! Bath with me in the sweetest honey of our past

to forget that plague spreading all over thy valleys, seizing thy heights!

I deny those unworthy creatures forever,

their ugly grimaces, their mouths gaping like bloody, bloody wounds!

As a blue whirlwind I´ll storm through their lifeless nights, and their fearful shrieking will be my laughter, ahahaha..

My blood is grief, flowing toughly into your veins,

my breath caresses your marks caused by thy ancient chains

Can you hear the sweet, sweet music of the rising night?

Follow me, out of your darkness

into the brightest light!