Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn.
In his house at R'lyeh, dread Cthulhu waits dreaming. For him the sleep of aeons is as but a momentary stillness, and in his dreams he speaks to those who would listen. He erodes the minds of the weak, and emboldens the mad. The wind gibbers with his voice, and the earth rumbles with his thoughts.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!
He once ruled where the feeble gods of Earth rule now, and where they now rule he will rule again. For his hand is at their throats, and they see him not. After summer is winter, and after winter, summer. He waits patient and potent, for the stars to be right.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!
Nor is he alone in his waiting, for there are those who would worship him, hidden in distant wastes and dark places. There they make ready for the time when they will liberate their master from his long sleep with their prayers. Great Cthulhu will awaken to bring the whole of the earth under his sway once more and to teach man new ways to shout and kill.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!
Now, as the stars move into their foretold conjunctions, and the great tree withers, R'lyeh rises from the sea and great Cthulhu frenzies forth to reassert his ancient dominion. He plants seeds of madness in the minds of the dreamers, and calls to those who would serve him.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!
The old gods will fall before him as he shatters the chains of reason, and commands lunacy to rush forth upon the world. Kings will be made mad, the mad will become kings and not even the dead will be spared his wrath.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!
The stars are right. Cthulhu rises.
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!