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The agonic voices
of spirits without destiny
emerge from darkness,
frozen winds travel through the trees
with the penetrating odour of death.
From dark fountains emanates
a mixture of sacred water and blood
covering the black earth.

Human heads are pilled up
betwixt the trees' roots
covered with the blood of the sacrifices.
Still the sinister chants can be heard,
praising the gods,
chants offering the blood and the life
of the sacrificed.

No one dares to penetrate the dark Nemeton
where the leafy oaks let no light to penetrate,
the dwelling of the gods honoured with blood.

No one dares to get close to the sinister stone altar
where rest the skulls of the sacrificed.
No one dares to enter in the pagan forest
haunted by wolves and ravens.

Guarded by Kernunnos, god of Life and Death,
Taranis, yours is the blood of the beheaded and the burned,
Esus, yours is the blood of the hanged in the great tree,
Teutates, yours is the blood of the drowned...

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