Mandragora

The village sleeps and all is silent in the dark night no dogs and the cockrel hasn't sung to break the spell
Spirits of the wind, you are silent too
The stranger rocks on the tree in his cradle of death
Three drops of his blood fall on the dark lands caressed by the shadows and protected by the moon
They have brought the great dame into our realm
Silver is the path, that leads to the silent woods and three lone women walk praying and singing ancient liturgy
Three low flames dance in the night, saint sacred and cursed because a spell of love and hatred will be cast
Milk and honey will be offered to the ancient motherland the witches, letting down their long hair sing their virginity to the moon
Only the spirits have eyes for them only the ancients can feed on their nude and sculputer bodies that dance in the darkness
The damp leaves stroke the hand on the lady of the witches, she who is rendered magic and potent with the oil, she is the lady of flight, she is the Mandragora
In the flash of lighting that cuts the darkness, the great dame is pulled from the earth, root that brings visions, love and hate, she is the Mandragora
Queen of the sabba
Bodies jerk in the frenetic dance, to the sound of screams from the infernal realm
The earth shakes and the witches sing, in honour of the goddess and the dark roots
She is the Mandragora that consecrates this great rite