Beyond which splendid Cathuria lies,
But which wise men know is the gate
Of a monstrous cataract
Where everything drops to abysmal nothingness
And shoot through the empty spaces
Toward other worlds and other stars;
The awful voids outside the ordered Universe
Where the Daemon-Sultan Azathoth waits.
O great island Oriab,
Mighty port city.
Twin beacons:
Thon and Thal
Where ships sail...
The city rises steeply
The very flight of steps
Into this beautiful city,
Where the night calls all!
A canal which leads
To the lake of Yath.
On the shore of this lake,
Is an unnamed city...
The seaport lying on the isle of Oriab;
Being a mighty city.
There is a canal which goes under the city
In a tunnel with granite gates;
Leading to the inland lake of Yath.
Parts of the city are built of bricks
Resembling the ancient ruins
On Yath's further shore.
The beacons on either side of the harbor
Are named Thon and Thal.
The lava-gatherers climb Mount Ngranek,
But not too high, might they fall;
To get bits of volcanic stone;
Still not reaching out to the gods.
The city is ruled by a congress
Of retired sea captains and traders;
Determining both laws and punishments.
Tales of the sunken city
Six nights out of Baharna
Are told in the taverns of Lhosk.
At the center of the Universe,
Is Azathoth, in all His might.
Corpulent mass of swirling,
Chaotic forms and more.
Piping an odd sound,
Which is muted at its bone.
Without melody or rhythm,
A sound lonely through His madness.
Like a Sultan on His throne,
They dance around the dome.
The 12 Dancing Gods so blind,
Of which Nyarlathotep did depart in His might.
Azathoth, the insane and formless God
The mad mass of Chaos
Piping the world to an end...
Insanity is what He is about!