Originally the temple probably contained a life-size cult statue of the god or a relief, as was customary, but this is not preserved.

I call to Entarabus, solitary, singular one, unrivaled among spirits, uncommon among souls, you stand apart, alone. Long did your temple shine in the domain of the Treveri, your image carved in stone, cast in bronze, made with care by skillful, faithful hands. Youthful one, vital one, bearer of the spear, cloaked in wolf-skin, firm-footed on the blessed ground, you watch those well-trod paths once walked by your tribe. Where rivers meet, where rivers part, where land is bounded by the flow, there we feel your might, there we know your company. Entarabus, I honor you.