Stood there leaning to the city moon, 站在那里扶着城市的月亮，

casting silhouettes tall to grip her white rooms 铸件的轮廓高大握她的白色房间

the black-clad voyeur in his black-clad masque 在黑衣偷窥他的黑衣面膜

in the serpentine sun of tragedy basked 在悲剧的蛇形太阳晒

   

Stood there cursing at the soul-dead mass 站在那里诅咒的灵魂死了质量

with their fabled illusions, the vain dreams that passed 他们的传说中的幻想，徒劳的梦想是通过

splinters of a life rushing by in the whirl 生活的碎片中抡抢着用

alone, silent warrior in a fantasy world 在一个幻想的世界孤独，沉默的战士

   

He cried for night / but night could not come 他哭了一夜/夜却迟迟不来

so, swept in the shroud of misanthropia he went away 因此，在席卷misanthropia的寿衣，他就走了

and fed the empty galleries 并送入空画廊

with the artifacts of the black rain 用黑雨文物

sunken into the shadows with a dry, sardonic smile 沉没江湖用干，嘲讽的笑容

   

He made the footprints a part of his heart 他做了他的足迹心脏的一部分

to rouse a sacred confrontation 唤起神圣的对抗

   

Stood there carving on the monument to lies 站在那里雕刻的纪念碑谎言

digging of the Earth, making friends with the soil 挖地球，交朋友与土壤

as the all-mother rises and bares her bleeding thighs 作为全母亲上升，剥开她的大腿出血

he disappears into her cold, icy womb 他消失在她的冷，冰冷的子宫