Texty:
Opera Ix The Call Of The Wood

the seasons observe the sun and the stars and when you have risen the stones and implored their power that will be the door through which you can call

, Inanna, let me feed at your breast let me celebrate the fertile union of the horned god with the pure white goddess. Follow the call of the wood. Follow

Eternal suffering. Everlasting oblivion of tears falling into the dust. I want to die. But the three mothers don't grip my hand they want the cycle to

: I (myself) Esteban son of the dark side, illuminated monarch of the abyss (which is) forgotten by the divine light I'm alive. Ancient now inexistent

Count the seasons observe the sun and the stars and when you have risen the stones and implored their power that will be the door through which you can call

Inanna, let me feed at your breast let me celebrate the fertile union of the horned god with the pure white goddess. Follow the call of the wood. Follow