I'm alone the night wind's blowing on my face

and the branches of the trees are crying

in the big empty of this night.

Step by step along the shadow path

the black cloak of darkness opens the door

in the place of eternal silence.

Wha strange emotions are striking my body

an obscure quiet is leading my mind

my hands are touching the wet trees

and the undergrowth is making my way blind among

the mossy stones in the realm of the dead.

The old ivy-mantled gate is creaking

while I am opening the door of the whisper crypt.

What a morbid force my soul has

a hidden god is leading my steps.

I am going down is this wet stairs in the stiffing dark

only the noise of a drop

of water is stressing the passing time

I'm alone in this sepulcro.

I humble being pieteously observe the men's fragilty.

Putrid bones put upon marble sacella

are waiting for nothing

while the cobwebs are covering the ancient effigies

everything's resting in a monumental silence here

everything is forgotten here.

I alone in this sepulcro will bring these relics

back to life with my profane action.

This is a sacred profanation

that will give life to death

the eternal life of memory.



Alone in this sepulcro.