Manteia, Manteia, Manteia...
The music of the temple inebriates me
With this delectable chant...
And this sacred dance.
And the exotic priestesses dance
with the impetuous frenzy of fire
distributing light and smiles,
in that corner of paradise.
Manteia, Manteia, Manteia,
and the serpent of fire,
amongst the august marble,
is the princess of the sacred purple,
it is the virgin of very ancient castles.
It is Hadit, the winged serpent,
engraved on the ancient roads of granite,
like a terrific and adored goddess,
like a genie of an ancient monolith,
in the body of the gods entwined.
And I saw in festival nights,
delectable princesses on their berths,
and the silent muse was smiling on the altars
among the perfumes and silk.
Manteia, Manteia, Manteia,
shouted the vestals,
filled with a crazy, divine frenzy,
and silently looking at them were the gods immortal,
under the porches of alabaster.
Kiss me, my love, look at me, I love you...
And a whisper of delectable words
was shaking the sacred arcanum...
among the music and roses
of that sacred sanctuary.
Go dance exotic dancers of Eleusis
among the jingle of your tiny bells,
Magdalenes of a Via Crucis,
divine priestesses...
