In a morning in haze, over you walking alone, dark clounds silently smiled and cast down their own cold shadows
... Completion of the life must require the death...
Within black clothes, you remain standing in looking up at nine lightning spheres flying down to you
EHXARPE HEKOMA NAENTA BITOME
By getting over the mighty black cross, there are no more places that you cannot reach at
All these six hundred and fourty four divisions of this world are being under your control
In all these five dimensions, height, width, depth, time, and consciousness
You are becoming the true ruler of your own world
Time's come to you to enter in the realm where nobody on the earth has never yet arrived
O your formula is now completed
Then you see dark figures of nine ladies, however, wearing black clothes as yours, within these lightning spheres coming down
Their eyes are coloured grey, or colourless, and their cursed pastime are lying over
But you feel no fear
EHXARPE HEKOMA NAENTA BITOME
Deep behind the grey lies inorganic eternity that stares at you and your life
Just innocently and with a little pity, neither in longing you, nor in refusing you
You silently look back at the tower of earth, and your words of might vibrate the air
MOAR-DIALE-HEKETEGA
O IKEZOD-HIKAL
Time's come to you to return your corpse to him
O now to the direction of the tower of earth
TELOKEHE,TELOKEHE
SIATERISE-NAENTA
PI-BELIAR BABALOEN
O now the death carries your corpse away to the Scorpio of earth
You, however, shall flee from him
Then you shall proceed to the palace of pity, the palace of the lady Babaloen
O life of the imprisoned and their inorganic beating clockworks echo over the horizon
Lighted with warm and cold grey light, without any change, since that pastime in their memories
Can you hear the winds whisper the warning?
Behold, he is the master of the Death
He approaches flowing to the front of you, or you yourself are powerlessly
Drawn to him, then he, just coldly and silently, reaps your life out
What you regarded as your corpse loses its activeness and its colour of blood and comes coldly unsawn
What you regarded as yourself is unchained from the prison of flesh
You are no more on the ground where you stood with your feet
The identity of your corpse: Your limbs, head, trunk, eyes, nose, and mouth
Everything struggles to ascend by leaving the corpse that ruins on the ground
This silence that might kill any lives is just the prologue
If you still keep being yourself, turn and look upon the tower of water
EMPEHE-ARESEL-GAIOLE
O RAAGIOSEL
You once again return your blood to him
To the direction of the tower of water
TELOKEHE,TELOKEHE
NAZODPES-TELOKEHE
HEKOMA
EF-KENILA
PI-BLIAR ZODEN BABALOEN
O the sword of Death
He pierces through the blood of you
You, however, shall flee from him
Then you shall proceed to the palace of pity, the palace of the lady Babaloen
The carved seals of the one that lived imprisoned are erased one by one in melting down within the wind
All the sceneries that formed the shape of you one by one lose any reasons to be then, there
And so, even in remaining in your memory, in turning in shapeless ashes
All your lust to be with them, and to be within your body, is gradually being lost and forgotten
Your personality disintegrates and your identity is freed from the restraint and begins ascending to the higher dimension
On the horizon lighted with warm and cold grey light, there no more stand your feet
The tower of wind draws you that struggle to break your shell
ORO-IBAH-AOZODPI
O BATAIVAH
You return your breath to him
To the direction of the tower of wind
TELOKEHE,TELOKEHE
ADEPEHAENTE-ORASE TELOKEHE
EHXARPE PI-BELIAR SALEMANE BABALOEN
O the ineffable darkness of Death, he conceals your breath
You, however, shall flee from him
Then you shall proceed to the palace of pity, the palace of the lady Babaloen