| Bow before the grim moon |
| The realm’s silvery-faced watcher |
| Arquaint the inward fiery inhuman dismay |
| The kingdom of cold might |
| Overwhelming dark eminence |
| Disallows the impure undignified to enter |
| This land is a ritual sumptuous robe |
| An external layer to assimilate by the crowd |
| Unmitigated aspect hidden for undesirable sight |
| A gate to be forced by the somber nobility |
| A hypodermic permanent eclipse |
| That none with their inert rejoice |
| Ever felt the fraction of |
| This land has persisted immense |
| Thrust of desecrating burdens |
| As they tried to deprive its very core |
| By raising their abhorrent lucid shrines |
| Yet endured the obscure entity |
| A retribution force |
| Each meadow will own the gallows |
| For grotesque brood of God |
| Silver stream sinks through wooden stained glass |
| Paints my face a pattern of inconstant ambience |
| At the mystical bound |
| The luminosity dares not to stride |
| At the glorious time |
| When no human dare to disrupt |
| I hail the enchanted fullmoon that ascends |
| Over the eastern Mazovian woods |