The huntress from the land of magog
Manacles on her seabed
Mauled in the deep she waits

For the czar of mesech and tubal
The blood of the 118 drips
From her glowering gaping mouth

She patiently bears suffering in the barents abyss

'eternal father, strong to save...


K-141 headed north for a russian naval victory
Armed with 24 "granit"

She prowls through the barents sea
118 hearts beat as one when kursk submerges
From the mighty ocean depths

She is the bride of gog, a post-soviet czarina
The czardom's silver bow,
Czartemis leads a fleet in bloom


Drunk with exuberance she arrogates the briny deep
Invulnerable became funereal

After insubordination and sabotage!
A deathly blow from within, the $$#assin $$#assinated
Now 117 men must die for

Der dolchstoss of one judas ephialtes

In a solitude of the sea

Deep from human vanity,
And the pride of life that planned her,
Stilly couches she.


Steel chambers, late the pyres
Of her salamandrine fires,

Cold currents thrid, and turn
To rhythmic tidal lyres.


Till the spinner of the years
Said 'now! ' and each one hears,
And consummation comes,

And jars two hemispheres.

Over the missiles meant

To smite the opponent
The sea-worm crawls
Grotesque, slimed,

Dumb, (and) indifferent.

And now the queen and antaeus lie dead

The twain forever converged on the seabed