In sterquiliniis invenitur Cutting through the stale fog The tempest comes as I walk From a great wind, the mute's curtain falls Suddenly the voice of an avalanche calls From the shade A forming face roars Pulling back four horses whipped to quarter Channeling heart from a time before Tyrant forced beyond their border Beyond the walls built by bricks of order Heeding not the wind nor hail I cannot stay, I must go forward! Humbled by primordial madness Freed from a crushing stasis, the soul is now braver!