Opera Ix

Beyond the valley of the silence
along the paths of ancient knowledge
led from the dense odours of the wind.
You will find yourself in the holy wood
consecrated to the primordial gods.
Baptized with the dew around the oak of this Wiccian's mass
celebrated from the warbling of the crows, og great mother moon.
Ishtar, Astarte, Inanna, let me feed at your breast
let me celebrate the fertile union of the horned god
with the pure white goddess.
Follow the call of the wood.
Follow the voice of the god.
Celebrate in the Nemeton with red candles
and autumnal flowers on the stone altar.
Dress yourself with the sky in the magic circle
and purify yourself with the sacred incense of Cernunnos.
Bless me mother, 'cause I am your son.