Then will the earth tremble
And all voices of the gods will be forced into silence
The fruits of the earth will rot
The soil will turn barren
And the very air will sicken with sullen stagnation
All good will disappear
But when all this has befallen
Then, the nameless, the creator of all things
Will look on that which has come to pass
And will stop the disorder by the counter-force of its will
[?], it will cleanse the world of evil
Washing it away with floods
Burning it out with the fiercest fire
And expelling it with war and pestilence
And thus it will bring back this earth to the former [?]
So that the cosmos will once more be deemed worthy
Of worship and wondering reverence
A holy and awe-inspiring restoration of all nature
And it is wrought inside of the process of time