The Pagan Mountain

We greet your majesty
Against a background of the night sky,
The pride of my land.
Themark of centuries
Pressed upon you makes us bow.

The ashes of anrestors scattered
By the wind,
Echo of priests' wisdom
Among your stoned.

Azel!
Look on the swords
Held in your name

You know the primordial blood
Shed in Samhain,
You remember the lusts of Midsummer Eve
You know the enemy who came
To destroy the holy circles.
The gods call for the revenge

Azel!
Look on the swords
Held in your name.