Sharpen your swords and powder your kegs,
When the Lycan screams out your name.
Lower your shutters and bolt your doors.
Your prayers are but in vain.
When the full moon crawls the cobwebbed sky.
And your scent is snatched by the wind.
Guard your soul with all of Gods might.
And shield your virtue from sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem