Gort - Forest myths | Текст песни

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• Gort
• Forest myths

1. Worldshade
English:

Probing night
To traverse time
Silence o¡¯waters calling us

In dusk we soar
Stars in our eyes
Endless forests inside us

„¡­and head to head now we embraced
for life and death, as did our names,
the letters on the pillow case,
and quickly fell asleep again.¡±
(Gyula Illy¨¦s)

Accurs¡¯d, odd, dark romanticism

2. Thou Luna Black
English:

Thou Luna Black
Let my mantle thee engrave
For far is her star
Coming not by the dusk

Thou Luna black
Arrive as tempest
For all is deceased
Upon this earth

For far is her star
For all is deceased
For roaming shadows this relam is

My pale crown is wasting away
with musing ebb,
albeit corolla of love shielding it
even in this hour of sere and yellow leaf
yet I am craving to know
in this deluged blood of mine
that this land is of fairies
where sightless scarab
swaying glowly with ached reed,
pure summer unfolding into sky
and they all are bending, all are bending to death

3. Awakening
English:

Dead we were in the small hours,
Ravens guarded our brows
Gravels gathered in its tiny eyes
And became one in the gale
We did see

We dreaded the sun
For it turned out our faltering secrets
Yet the darkness was ours
And all our knowledge sense
Blood of amber did stream inside us
Falling into a leaf of grass,
Our inner eternities
Grasped each other
From the outside

Odd, strange distance in the night
Our own abyss

Yet if time lights upon us on the stones of north
At those frozen fields of the evanescent
Conceal thy sick, deceased breasts,
Mother of sightless child

For all infinite as a captive of finite
Merely stiff passion
Creation springing on us
Awakening into the existence

4. A Forest Myth
English:

„¡­Burd Helen round about the aisle
To seek the ball is gone
But long they waited, and longer still,
And she came not back again.

They sought her east, they sought her west,
They sought her up and down.
And woe were the hearts of her brethren,
Since she was not to be found.

Oh, hear you this, my youngest sister,
Why didn¡¯t you bide at home?
Had you a hundred thousand lives,
You couldn¡¯t spare ne¡¯er a one!

But sit you down, my dearest dear
Oh! Woe that ye were born,
For, come the King of Elfland in
Your fortune is forlorn.

But long they waited, and longer still,
With doubt and muckle pain.
And woe were the hearts of her brethren,
For she came not back again¡­¡±
(Old English fairytale ¨C an extraction)

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