Landscapes below, besmeared with angels blood,
and rivers filled with tears from grim tortuer acts;
That dwells within the cold dungeon chambers
The agony of damned souls frozen the dim night

What can better than to dwell here, driven out of bliss,
in this abhorred deep to utter woe
Where the inextinguishable flames must forever burn
Without hope or end
As a great furnace flamed, yet from those flames
No light, but darkness visible
A fire so high; mighty and as a scythe sears the sky
Brings scars in the face of god
They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss
Outrageous as sea, dark, wasteful, wild
Up from the bottom turned by furious and surging winds;
As mountains to assault heavens height

In the sign of Hell, the blood of angels enslaved
In the sign of the horned, where peace never can dwell

They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss
Outrageous as sea, dark, wasteful, wild
Up from the bottom turned by furious and surging winds;
As mountains to assault heavens height

"The gate is open and I command my disciples
to come forth from the pits of hell, and to grasp the kingdom
of god with the infernal powers of darkness"

So spake the voice, and clouds began to darken the hills
and smoke to roll in sudky wreaths, reluctant flames;
The sign of wrath awakened

Before the gate there sat on each side two formidable shapes in
the gloom, two hounds of hell; with wide ceberean jaws
The sign of wrath awaked