In front of us the endless lake;
The white chain of the Alps
Marble rose to the heights.
A dull rumble of thunder,
towards evening it was bloody red;
Above that in black rolls
The clouds heavy and dead;
As over the dead sea
The dun sky grays;
Like leaden atmosphere
The Smum that Sahare is brewing;
Through glowing regions
drives suffocating vortices,
The Ashes of the Pharaohs
Dust from Mizraim's graves:
So through the wasteland
storm breaths of eternity,
The spirits of death flew
The time was up.
And through the cloud stratification
The sun went down
She stood above death and destruction
The bleeding heart of creation.
