Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise
When earth’s power bleeds sacred red
The mark strikes true; Queen tsi sgili
Will devise,
He shall be washed from his entombing bed.
Through the hand of the dead he is free
Terrible beauty, monstrous sight;
Ruled again they shall be
Woman shall kneel to his dark might.
Kalona’s song sounds sweet
As we slaughter with cold heat! _!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is from the House of night book series...