Quintrala (Redemption Melodies to Her Wild Nature)

And little Catrala has thrown her tears
 For grandma's illness
 Is against (her) huge caprice,
 Avoiding the firceness
 Of what a tiny girl feels
 Outside stars are hiding their lights
 Unfolding a dreadful darkness
 Upon march of monks started
 Missing a young and chaste princess
 The empress of Night
 Catalina has got the permission she needed
 Her desires are torrents
 Of madness concealed
 That let pageant look at
 The lights of shadows, thrilled.
 The stars have reignited
 In hands of the march
 And an ebony Jesus walks bleeding
 Our sinful pride,
 Hiding his Sodom before Procession of Blood
 "Ground turns red as blood take possession of
 What a so called Holy Ghost (is) supposed to
 Clean with pain, lighting with its soft pleasure a
 Growing unknown hidden in deepest core of our
 Childish empress"
 Images are fluttering
 In a vortex of chaos
 Stealing sleep away from the child's nest
 Ideas run through pathway
 Leading to evilness pagedom...
 The girl can feel every drop of blood
 She sees it flowing
 Through a self induced wound
 Until she needs (to) turn this dream
 Into a reality indeed
 Silence is flirting with shadows noises
 Letting Catrala's footsteps
 To be their black roses
 Leading her to the hope of the whip
 With its easing sadness
 The chapel is opened
 For its miniature priestess
 Now she discovers her immaculate skin
 To altar's whisper
 As the long wait reaches its end
 "At last body and essence are consumed (in) red
 Flames... Hands get skilled with every beat of
 Self passion, turning whistles of whiplash into
 A little girl Redemption melodies to her Wild Nature."