Il Nerazza Di Bestimiare

And pilgrimage night i walked unseen

On thorny thistles vines

To behold the conduct of night sky

A pale wondering moon on drunken sky

Of nordic stars strewn in its path

And conjure its embers for a swathe

That i may end my weary quest

In concerted revelry's jest

Over delightful roars of order's fall

Summoning gods of victor's trumpet call

Oft i ride on passing zenith winds

Through corridors of heathen kins

I hear whisper kindle of a dance

Perform the arts of phallic stance

For a sentient slumber to perceive

Bestow upon me a nymphet conceives