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Cosmic laments of a bloody and impure infinite

The cure for the pain and the renaissance in the death

Revenge to the bored world of peace

It is necessary the hate

To apply the nature of our instincts

In the Wandering Flames of our damned empire we reborn sovereign

Distant winds bring us the morbid and supreme face that stays in the ancient rites

Penetrates in my soul, rip the skin, guides my being, elevates me to you, Satan! Satan!

Oh Satan! Glory to Satan!

Fateful reflex of dimmed weeping, that blinds the sanity, violates the sanctity

Obscure the life and disfigures the peace

Rides for the infinite where the blood spill for faithful servants' delights and the glance

Silence before your omnipotence and power

Horrendous serpent that the solitude knows crawls for bed of death of the bastard Christ

Disfigures the flesh and soul of the pig Nazarene

Horned God that disfigures the faith

Black face that spread death around the world

Disastrous poison that provides me pleasure in death of all our enemies

We were born again in your hate and power, satanic deacons, murderers and merciless

Oh Satan! Glory to Satan!

Fateful reflex of dimmed weeping, that blinds the sanity, violates the sanctity

Obscure the life and disfigures the peace