Before the outpouring of transient worlds
The Vast Darkness was in Itself
He was not, and I in Him
In a rest of perfect Darkness

Still-born existence, rejoicing in a pitch-black wom
Death was yet to deliver this child

Before the Great Sea overflowed when the pillars collided
The Vast Darkness in Itself
In a paradox existence, where the creative principle are of Itself
A lidless eye opened Itself in the emptiness - Death fell
yet there is hope for all

The still-born spirit rests with the Gods
In a Sterile Triad, before the ' joins -
In deathless Death, that life has not yet touched
Redemption is delivered, through the bliss of the Lord

He was not, and none in Him in a rest of perfect Darkness
Still-born worlds, once potent in the pitch black wom
Death delivers the child