As Siegfried sinks in the ashen storm Of Odin's screaming Muse of Death, And Rhinegold bleeds like molten lead In the grey descent of Orpheus, To reap the womb and sow the grave Of Europe's tragic Nemesis, To reap the ruins and sow the graves Of Europe's blackened Holiness, To reap the womb and sow the grain Of Europe's Holy Name, Beneath the soil of the nations In the tepid sea of global time, I recall the sundered lands The Arctic throne of love and pride, To reap the wounds And sow the graves Of Europe's tragic Nemesis... A white rose crowned With runic thorns For the murdered sons of God, The white sun crowned With golden thorns For the martyred Sons of God