When one's instincts Begin to serve another world That only cares for tears and sighs Eyes always half-closed
So that the lids can protect The inner mysteries From the indiscretion Of external light
A man who has never erred Out of pain and in illness And only knew love Is so colourless That not even the sun Can brighten his character You must live in flames Or next to them We are used to suffering aimlessly In the uselessness of pain
We prove the health of our senses In the extent that we resist The temptation of asceticism
Void Fire Void Fire
The road to ecstasy The experience of the void The strife for mental blankness The total rejection Of the images of the world Weariness of life Fares well in the shadows Of whores and hermits
You realise in man All the possibilities For imperfection And corruption
Devoid of earthly love Ill-equipped for happiness Knowing only The melancholy That precedes it And the sadness that follows
To overcome one's fear of death Is to triumph over life The will to nothingness Is an agonistic passion
A passion whose poison Has spread over centuries Unable to receive The revelations of the void Too great is your love of life
The stony despair of an ascetic
Who discovers too late in life
The futility of renunciation
In distant dreams of inner peace
Doses of transcendental poison We are not wise enough Not to love life With infinite agony
The more you advance in life The more you realise That you learn almost nothing That is truly of substance
One negates life Through uninterrupted lucidity Is there even a point In loving transitory things
The greatest changes in ideology Are born from the revelation Of the meaninglessness of life From thoughts fed on suffering Seething with cosmic hatred Against all agents of culture The world seems useless And full of erratic movements
You begin by ignoring the object And end by ignoring the world Ignore the object To ignore the worldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
