O/Orakle/Le théâtre de la nature - acte II : le repos
The quietus My vision... apathetic Lost in the middle of tears This time, hell was far higher
When the wind returns to the tomb And the rain, lone, succumbs I behold the trees, free anew In this temple forgetting the past's rage
Ruined by a devastating passion Disfigured scene, wounds intuition And the trees mourn their sudden demise Pillars in their turn bowing to the harm
Torn by the gusts of yore Weapons are unveiled, with a bloody destiny Memories from a skies' dreadful sublime impulse
Those wintry evenings, as a veil falls night The cloudless sky lets glitter its first stars And engraving in me unforgettable memories Without triumph behind, nature withdraws...
The rising moon seems to watch over the night Above mighty nature, in our infinite templeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
