You, with lion blood anointed at a red bonfire,
Sated with flesh and love like a pregnant woman —
Come closer, closer to your lord the hunter!
Now, when the hyena prepares salt for my muscles —
Oh, closer, closer to your lord the hunter.

A man dies —
At his funeral, his wife seeks another.
Children think: they bore themselves.
A man loves a man in a mirror.
You — will not betray.
With lion blood anointed at a red bonfire,
You will descend with me into the kingdom of death,
Where the hunting will go on and on — —