As the wolves howl  And the moon penetrates the driving clouds  When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade  Your stature approaches closer and closer  An Osculum Infame    Your scent is still present  In this place so dark, so pure  At a bed of leaves I still see your shadow  In the sinister shade of a horned moon    Ishtar, my witch, my burning Goddess  Every woman bears your mark in her soul  As the rustle of leaves and the rustle of flames  Inflame your transistory (yet eternal) existence    I embrace your light  It shines through the leaves of trees so old  As the beckoning of bells in the freezing night  Makes us forget about the cold    As the wolves howl  And the moon penetrates the driving clouds  When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade  Your stature disappears slowly and grave  An Osculum Infame