If you ever hear the song of a

dying phoenix

don't let sadness close your ears

you may offend the secret face of nature

It is not a mourning but a hymn.

If you ever see the bright pyre strip

the nightly creature from the chains

you'll witness what the most

can only envy

the glorious coupling of the light

with the dark

Burning Phoenix rise

Ash is what you leave to go up high

The flaming bird knows the time

when the astral gates are open time

to fulfil its noble destiny

it was born to fly

Forever, with the burning legions

of its kind.

On wings of smoke they are singing

Their calling is the calling of the free