Sepulcro

I'm alone the night wind's blowing on my face
 and the branches of the trees are crying
 in the big empty of this night.
 Step by step along the shadow path
 the black cloak of darkness opens the door
 in the place of eternal silence.
 Wha strange emotions are striking my body
 an obscure quiet is leading my mind
 my hands are touching the wet trees
 and the undergrowth is making my way blind among
 the mossy stones in the realm of the dead.
 The old ivy-mantled gate is creaking
 while I am opening the door of the whisper crypt.
 What a morbid force my soul has
 a hidden god is leading my steps.
 I am going down is this wet stairs in the stiffing dark
 only the noise of a drop
 of water is stressing the passing time
 I'm alone in this sepulcro.
 I humble being pieteously observe the men's fragilty.
 Putrid bones put upon marble sacella
 are waiting for nothing
 while the cobwebs are covering the ancient effigies
 everything's resting in a monumental silence here
 everything is forgotten here.
 I alone in this sepulcro will bring these relics
 back to life with my profane action.
 This is a sacred profanation
 that will give life to death
 the eternal life of memory.
 Alone in this sepulcro.