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7 марта 24, 03:40
Dmitry MetalLord
Лирика : Elend : A World In Their Screams : A World In Their Screams
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A World In Their Screams
A World In Their Screams (2007)
Elend
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8 февраля 10, 21:58
Le soleil est au plus haut.
Je crains les tnbres qui viennent.
La nuit dernire, alors que ton corps se consumait,
Il y avait un monde dans tes cris.
Amour, je scuplte ton visage dans la pnombre du souvenir et cours vers la plus haute ruine
Des cris proviennent de Son monument - ce temple ou l'ombre est notre guide.
La cruaut du peuple y trouve s'exercer sans mesure.
Malheur! Malheur aux hommes de bin
Car ils seront les esclaves d'esclaves
Leur corps tombera le premier
Et leur nom sera calomni.
Courage!
Rsistance!
Mon corps est une corde qui vibre entre deux royaumes
Etrange harmonie qui ne glorifie aucun monde
Et qui ne laisse pas de nier le geste qui la fait natre.
La corde est une ligne, la ligne est un fleuve - le fleuve infini des morts.
L'Herms infernal attend la moisson; le champ est en feu.
L'incendie progresse.
[English translation:]
I have seen the new camps unfold,
the quarries of darkness where the slaves rot away.
Sun-war has reached its apex.
I fear the nearing darkness.
Last night, while your body was smoldering,
there was a world in your screams.
Love, I carve your face in the half-light of memory
and I hurtle towards utmost ruin.
Cries were heard coming from His monument
this temple where darkness alone is our guide.
(A place for the cruelty of the people to be exerted without restraint.)
Woe! Woe betide the men of virtue
for they will be the slaves of slaves;
their bodies will fall first
and their names will be slandered.
Courage!
Resistance!
My body is a rope that vibrates between two realms:
strange harmony not to glorify any world, never to hesitate about denying the gesture that gave birth to it.
The rope is a line, and the line is a stream
the unending stream of the dead.
Hermes Infernal awaits the harvesting; the fields are ablaze.
The fire draws near.
Je crains les tnbres qui viennent.
La nuit dernire, alors que ton corps se consumait,
Il y avait un monde dans tes cris.
Amour, je scuplte ton visage dans la pnombre du souvenir et cours vers la plus haute ruine
Des cris proviennent de Son monument - ce temple ou l'ombre est notre guide.
La cruaut du peuple y trouve s'exercer sans mesure.
Malheur! Malheur aux hommes de bin
Car ils seront les esclaves d'esclaves
Leur corps tombera le premier
Et leur nom sera calomni.
Courage!
Rsistance!
Mon corps est une corde qui vibre entre deux royaumes
Etrange harmonie qui ne glorifie aucun monde
Et qui ne laisse pas de nier le geste qui la fait natre.
La corde est une ligne, la ligne est un fleuve - le fleuve infini des morts.
L'Herms infernal attend la moisson; le champ est en feu.
L'incendie progresse.
[English translation:]
I have seen the new camps unfold,
the quarries of darkness where the slaves rot away.
Sun-war has reached its apex.
I fear the nearing darkness.
Last night, while your body was smoldering,
there was a world in your screams.
Love, I carve your face in the half-light of memory
and I hurtle towards utmost ruin.
Cries were heard coming from His monument
this temple where darkness alone is our guide.
(A place for the cruelty of the people to be exerted without restraint.)
Woe! Woe betide the men of virtue
for they will be the slaves of slaves;
their bodies will fall first
and their names will be slandered.
Courage!
Resistance!
My body is a rope that vibrates between two realms:
strange harmony not to glorify any world, never to hesitate about denying the gesture that gave birth to it.
The rope is a line, and the line is a stream
the unending stream of the dead.
Hermes Infernal awaits the harvesting; the fields are ablaze.
The fire draws near.
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