I'm alone the night wind's blowing on my faceand the branches of the trees are cryingin the big empty of this night.Step by step along the shadow paththe black cloak of darkness opens the doorin the place of eternal silence.Wha strange emotions are striking my bodyan obscure quiet is leading my mindmy hands are touching the wet treesand the undergrowth is making my way blind amongthe mossy stones in the realm of the dead.The old ivy-mantled gate is creakingwhile I am opening the door of the whisper crypt.What a morbid force my soul hasa hidden god is leading my steps.I am going down is this wet stairs in the stiffing darkonly the noise of a dropof water is stressing the passing timeI'm alone in this sepulcro.I humble being pieteously observe the men's fragilty.Putrid bones put upon marble sacellaare waiting for nothingwhile the cobwebs are covering the ancient effigieseverything's resting in a monumental silence hereeverything is forgotten here.I alone in this sepulcro will bring these relicsback to life with my profane action.This is a sacred profanationthat will give life to deaththe eternal life of memory.Alone in this sepulcro. | 
