When the moon shines red, Mani dances.
He cavorts with agonizing loveliness
In Svartalf groves, where trees bleed crimson,
And leaves tinkle like tiny blades in dichotic accompaniment.
When the moon shines red, Mani dances,
Too beautiful to behold for long,
Even for those well versed in the magic of glamour.
Hail the moon in His house of wonder.