This spectre at the feast
The wolves are gathering
Come, bring down the prey
I am the thunder that awakens the earth
Who are you, my son?
The wolves are gathering
My gaze shall make the night tremble
Come, join us in the hunt
Behold, the ghost of a king as yet unborn
The stars are shifting
[Incomprehensible]
I am far beyond the ken of men
Who are you, wanderer?
Yes, I am the scythe in the field at summer
The stars are shifting
Who are you, wanderer?
I have the scent
Gaze into the mists
This nectar of the vine
I am that which gives the night air its chill
Feel the earth thawing beneath your feet