When the night of the twelfth generation falls, Silence, the climax of the night, engulfed the hills, Three gods born of the earth, titan of life Appears on top of a mountain. The river rushes beneath their feet, Clouds swirled around their breasts, Their heads are solemnly raised above the world. They spoke, Like distant thunder, Their voices echoed over the plain. first god the wind blows to the east; I turned my strands to the south, For it fills my breath with the putrid smell of dead things. second god This is the smell of roasted flesh, sweet and rich, I would like to breathe it.

first god This is the smell of inescapable death from its smoldering flames, It hangs sullenly in the air, Like the foul air of hell, I will turn my face to the odorless and tasteless north. second god This is the fragrance of life burning with worry, I am and always will be happy to breathe it. The gods feed on sacrifices, Their thirst must be quenched with blood. Their hearts are soothed by young souls, Their flesh is strong with eternal sighs, That sighs from those who dwell with death; Their thrones are built high on the ashes of generations. first god Boredom is all my mood,

I would not set my hands to create a world, I don't want to destroy one either. If I could die, I don't want to live, For the burden of the ages is upon me. The endless moaning of the sea drains my sleep. If only I could throw away the original goal, Like the setting sun disappearing from the sky, If only I could strip my divine resolve, Call my immortal life into space, Until life goes no further, If only I could be consumed, Step from the memory of time into the omnipresent emptiness. third god my brother!my old brother! A young man in a distant valley, Singing his heart's voice to the night.

His lyre is of golden ebony, His voice is like a jewel, Like silver. second god I will not be reduced to nothing in vain. I can only choose the most difficult path; to follow the seasons, Maintain the dignity of the sun and the moon; to sow the seeds, and watched them break through the ground; Awaken the bud from its hiding place, and give it strength to embrace its own life, Then, Pick it when the storm laughs in the woods; To raise man from the darkness, But let his roots still cling to the earth, the longing that gave him life, Let death serve him wine, Give him love that grows with pain,

This love is sublimated by longing, growing with yearning, and wither in the first embrace; Surrounded by his night with dreams of the sublime day, Filled his day with visions of blissful night, Then shut his day and night in their unchanging resemblance; Let his imagination soar like an eagle, Let his thoughts be like the waves of the sea, Then give him a pair of hands that are slow to decide and a pair of feet that are heavy because of prudence; make him feel happy, He will sing before us, make him feel sad, He will cry out before us; and set him low, When the earth cried out for food in hunger;

Lifted his soul above the firmament, So he can have a foretaste of our tomorrow. Let his body grovel in the mire, That way he won't forget his yesterday. so, We shall dominate mankind till the end of time, hold his breath, From his mother's scream, until the wailing of his children is over. first god my heart is thirsty, Yet I will not drink the impoverished blood of a feeble species, For the cup is polluted, Grape aging turns bitter on my lips. same as you I have also kneaded clay and given it breathing forms, They slip through my fingers, Scattered in swamps and hills.

same as you I have also illuminated the deep darkness of the beginning of life, Watch it climb from the cave to the high rock. Same as you~ I also summoned spring to place beauty, Let it be to capture youth, The bait that forces him to procreate and reproduce. same as you I have also guided humanity from one holy place to another. Turned his wordless fear of the unseen into a trembling faith in us, And we are neither visited, And not recognized. same as you On him too I rode the wild storm, So he bowed his head before us, And the earth shook at his feet, until he calls out to us;

same as you I too have set the sea on the isle of his nest, until he died in supplicating us. These are all my doings, or even more. All that I have done is now futile and unreal, In vain is awake, Illusion is asleep, Three times as futile and unreal as dreaming. third god Bros!My awesome brothers! in the myrtle bushes A girl is dancing to the moon, Dewdrops of stars adorn her hairline, Thousands of wings soared under her feet. second god We plant humans in our vines, And plow the earth in the purple mist of the first dawn. We watch these poor branches grow, In the seasonless days,

We nurse the young leaves and shoots. We protect the bud from angry nature, We guard the flowers against all dark elves, Now our vines are bearing fruit But you would not take it to juice, Pour into cup. What hands stronger than yours shall reap the fruit? What nobler purpose than your thirst shall desire wine? Man is the dish of the gods, The glory of man begins with: His aimless breath was tasted and sipped by the holy lips of the gods. All human beings will be worthless, if always human; The innocence of childhood, The sweet intoxication of youth, The solemn passion of adults,

The wisdom and philosophy of old age, regal splendor, warrior's victory, poet's reputation, Glory of dreamers and saints, All this and everything that goes with it, All are the bread of the gods. They will be but unblessed bread —The silent grain would be a song of love if the gods had not lifted it to their lips, — when they are pecked by nightingales, Only as the bread of the gods, Only humans can taste divinity. first god indeed, Humans are the meat of the gods! The final destination of mankind will be the eternal feast of the gods! pains of conception and pains of childbirth,

Babies' aimless cries pierce the naked night, The mother's distress wrestles with her longing sleepy eyes, From her breasts poured out life till it dried up; Tormented by the scorching breath of youth, The sweat dripping from the brows of adults waters the barren land, Pale old sorrows, —When life calls the grave against the will of life. behold, This is human! Creatures that thrive on hunger, Be food for the hungry gods. A vine crawling in the dust at the feet of death that does not die, Flowers of night that bloom under the shadow of evil; fruitful in miserable days Grapes of days of terror and shame. But you still want me to eat, to drink. You made me sit among shrouded faces, Sucking my life from stone-like lips, Meet my eternity from withered hands.