Far-away echos accompany the dim lights of torches
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Old and mighty trees twine along the holy way of an ancient procession
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Simple but obscure songs are murmured in the deep arboreal temple
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Only two mighty blades shine in the reflection of fire
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From our directions come the old sages, each with his number and each carrying his ancestor's
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treasures
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Everything repeats as in an old prophecy marked by a vision donated by the Spirit of Nature
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And nothing is quiet in the dark heart of the forest
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It's inhabitants voices
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The breed of the trees and the men's mantra are part of a unique great ritual
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Nothing is quiet... nothing
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The four shining serpents slowly draw near to form a circle following the rhythm of
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Dark and deep rumbles like the heartbeats of a huge dragon as he is drawing near
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Everything wheels in an alchemist dance, where the symbols will become laws preserved
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By a family of sages, the men of the oaks
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Four serpents united and became one circular serpents, just one in the ancient nemeton
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Where each man was near his stones and symbols
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Now, everything is silent in the large forest
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And even the magical lights of the flames seem to burn out in the silence
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In the circle of men and stones, only the oldest one begins to sing a new but terrible prophecy
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The Serpent's Nemeton
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| Opera Ix |
