In the rain of sparks a wreath is tied
A circle closed by the brightness of stars
From remoteness, from dim sphere
In the atmosphere of misty eddies
Now they ride from pole to pole
Towards space pinnacles, against an extinguished sun
In the cover of the clouds, only far away
The festively cloaked men
With taut bag and shining dagger
These air gods travel above the lantern of the sky
In the sound of the night , the undisguised interpreter
Along the path of the Milky Way they are seen fleeing
Broomsticks of fire from the election horse
"Beinga to us, your guest of honor"
He who rules over the mane
And the storm orchestra's overture< br/>Like a blood-colored ruby
Are the eyes of men
With insidious sun wolf grins
Along the celestial map they draw
They bear the heritage of the night
That caressingly bribes us
I endless tense
Listen! The fanfare of all the world
From Orion's belt they draw their scepter
And descend towards the fir forest's edge
Since time immemorial they cranked the earth's hub
From the starry firmament bestowed the home-built vision
"And gladiators riding against the sky ater lyfte
They are eclipsed sunshine spirits with the higher purpose"