As the wolves howl

And the moon penetrates the driving clouds

When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade

Your stature approaches closer and closer

An Osculum Infame



Your scent is still present

In this place so dark, so pure

At a bed of leaves I still see your shadow

In the sinister shade of a horned moon



Ishtar, my witch, my burning Goddess

Every woman bears your mark in her soul

As the rustle of leaves and the rustle of flames

Inflame your transistory (yet eternal) existence



I embrace your light

It shines through the leaves of trees so old

As the beckoning of bells in the freezing night

Makes us forget about the cold



As the wolves howl

And the moon penetrates the driving clouds

When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade

Your stature disappears slowly and grave

An Osculum Infame