Las Letanías De Satán

Oh, you, the wisest and most beautiful of the Angels,
God betrayed by fate and deprived of all praise.
Prince of exile,
Who suffers injustice, and who, although
Defeated, rises stronger.
You who know everything
King of the
Underworld,
Familiar healer of human anguish.
You, who even to lepers and outcasts
Cursed, awaken, out of love, the taste for Paradise

Oh, you who from death
Your old and faithful lover
Engender
Hope
Such a charming madness!
You who give the
Outcast that look, calm that, around a gallows
Condemns an entire people.
You who know in what corners
Of envied lands the jealous God locks away
The most precious stones.
You, whose gaze knows the deep
Arsenals where lies buried
The people of metals.

You, whose long hidden hand shields the sleepwalker from cliffs
Who wanders at the edge of buildings.
You who
Magnificently soothe the hard bones of the hardened
Drunk trampled by horses.
Glory and praise to you
Satan,
In the heights of Heaven, where you reign, and in the
Depths of Hell, where, defeated, you dream in
Silence.
Make my soul one day, under the Tree of
Knowledge, rest near you,
When upon your forehead, like
A new Temple, it spreads its branches.
You, who to
Console the fragile suffering man,
Teach us to mix
Saltpeter and sulfur.
You who leave your mark,
Oh
Subtle accomplice, on the forehead of cruel
And vile Croesus.
You
Who instill in the eyes and hearts of young
The worship
Of wounds and love for rags.
Staff of exiles,
Lamp of inventors,
Confessor of hanged and conspirators.
Adoptive father of those who in their black rage
God the Father cast out of earthly Paradise.