Under The Sign Of The Red Dragon - Opera IX

I raise my eyes at dead of night

I hear the silence moulding my body

I hear the damp and living ground throbbing

I belong to it

I’m the guardian of this land

I’m Dracula, Prince of Walacchia

My name is synonymous with fear and terror

Which I sowed and grew and which I fed on

I led an army of dead soldiers

That I myself had raised from their graves

I spread death and destruction

Stifling smell of blood and excrements

Desperate cries, sobs

Thousands of corpses rotted in the sun

Thousands of poles rose as I passed

My head beheaded and laid down

The law: my law

I was Vlad, the Impaler

Nobody could obstruct my path

And the powerful Turks come in crowds

And the new forest came up

Forest of fright and blood

And the sultan of gold and silk

Came with his numerous army

Thousand of persons were horribly impaled

And crowds came, crowds of enemies

And at the end I was surrounded

Chill, blood, horror of an irrepressible slaughter

By then I was a prince without land

And from the ground a whisper

The whisper of the dead, rose:

«Dracula, please, come back!»