Dark Moor - Dies irae (Requiem Mozart) | Текст песни и Перевод на русский

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• Dies irae (Requiem Mozart)

Судный день (лат. dies irae, букв. «день гнева») — в католическом богослужении песнопение проприя мессы (секвенция); написана в XIII веке францисканцем Томмазо да Челано.
В ней описывается Судный день. Заключительные звуки секвенции символизирует восхождение душ людей к Божественному трону, где праведники будут избраны для наследования Рая, а грешники — низвергнуты в геенну огненную.
Секвенция Dies irae включалась в обиходные книги начиная со времён Тридентского собора вплоть до Второго Ватиканского собора. В новое чинопоследование мессы (1970) она не включена.

Confutatis maledictis,
Flammis acribus addictis.

When the sun is flustered
And the moon is free
The great little master
Write a bitter melody

The notes fevers in my breast,
Aches to be away

Eternal wisdom
In glorious kingdom
That is my sole wish

Chorus:
The first violins lead me while the harps
Embrace me like the blood
The madness beats my art
In the stage my baton cuts the air,
I am,
In a world I never made, a man

Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sybilla
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando iudex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus.

The sound is around
Long life to the king
Never falling down
Rex gloria, Rex gloria
Witness of the time
Spirit is sublime
No more feels of pain no more hate
A revenge is going away

Where is my destiny?
Where is my fantasy?
I need to free my soul and cry
Someone to pray for me
I need to free my soul and will die

There wells up the only tear
We shed without woe
And ride like the wind because
The music is enthralled

The notes fever's in my breast,
Aches to be away

Eternal wisdom
In glorious kingdom
That is my sole wish

chorus:
The first violins lead me while the harps
Embrace me like the blood
The madness beats my art
In the stage my baton cuts the air,
I am,
In a world I never made, a man

Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sybilla
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando iudex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus.

The soft sleep to your bed
Is not worth pursuing
You will so soon be dead
Death will serve instead
Turn to the thing
He was born to be
A master to the king
Keep your fancy free
In the deep of the sea

Salva me, fons pietatis.

chorus variation:
The first violins lead me while the harps
Embrace me like the blood
The madness beats my art
In the stage my baton cuts the air,
I am,
In a world I never made, a man

Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sybilla
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando iudex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus.

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