Collecting pieces of what once was me,
She joins them silently by hand
She works her way on the familiar figure,
I feel the pressure, an urge to see
Extreme heat inside the coffin home,
Carried through the dying land
I know my son because I swallowed his eye;
This was the moment, my mind set free:
Lord of Love, Lord of Silence, Lord of the Dead.
A process of imitation, return of vegetation through the flood.
His backbone and His river,
A Sacred Ram kept in His memory.
The Soul of the Lord, of the pillar of Stability.
His genitals divided,
Worshipped His will, His fertility.
Gloomy, solemn, mournful
Actions for the rebirth of the grain.
Sister in the sorrow,
Sharing His Kingdom with the Dead.
If wheat and clay were transformed,
He will always be the Perfect One.
This was all revealed to me
In the movements of a ritual
Hooded figures guiding me
Through the moments of despair
Witnessing the sign of silence,
I understand the union:
Between man and a woman there's a return
Nail by nail and bone to bone,
He is to be complete again
Like a beast he is reborn:
On his feet and near perfection
Blood is rushing through his veins,
His heart now beats with pain
Shivering, this deadly form,
He dreams with open eyes
Hand in hand we rise and pray
For those who came before us
We will let our love burn
And our slaves will lose their sight
Resurrecting heavens vast
We reflect the light that once was
Horrid is the might we bear
As we strike back the night
Hope that you can hear the same
Strong and brave voice that I heard
The order of the guiding signs
Remains the same, just like above
All I said throughout the night,
I did mean every word
Can you share this mystery
With me, my only true love?