Текст песни Grey Heaven Fall - The Lord Is Blissful In Grief
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Славься, наш Господь, в таинстве погибели, Смотри на смерть и горе сынов своих, Коими наполнены могилы, и мать земля давно пожрала их... Кто прожил жизнь под гнойным сиянием твоим В поиске тебя, когда ты был средь них. Мертвые поют тебе молчанием, Они в твоих чертогах тьмы, блаженны и пусты, В объятьях Бога, давшего им когда-то жизнь, Чтоб видеть смерть, и смерть, что будут созерцать они... Блажен Господь во скорби, в холоде усопших, В нищете рассудка голодающих, Господь, блаженный в боли, в мерзости блаженный, Огнем презрения всепожирающий! Грядет тот день, когда зловоние Господа Наполнит опустевшие тела Когда-то жаждущих Царства Божьего... Те, кто жив, пропойте трижды в священной радости: «Блажен Господь во скорби нашей и в смерти!» В безграничной жажде слов объясняющих Берега полюсов разнородных истерзаны, Скрижали господни помазаны рвотою псов проказных И свиньи жаждут припасть к силуэтам крестов. Отче! Твои скрижали рухнули... --------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. The Lord is Blissful in Grief Famed be our God in the sacrament of perdition! Behold death and woe of your sons, who filled the graves With themselves being devoured by Mother Earth... Who wasted their lives under your purulent shine, Blindly searching for you...Though you were amongst them The dead sing their fame to you with silence In your halls of darkness. They are so blissful and empty In the embrace of God given life to them. So they could see death... And death they will behold; Blissful be our God in grief and cold of the dead, In beggar minds of striving ones, God is blissful in pain, Blissful in filth, Omnivorous with your flame of scorn! One day the stench of God Will fill the empty bodies Of craving after Heaven… You, who are still alive, sing thrice in your holy rapture - Blissful be God in our grief and death! Shores and poles are mutilated In endless thirst for clarifying words; God's tablets are spread with the vomit of leprous dogs; And pigs are longing for pressing themselves to crosses. Our Father! Your tablets are ruined! Смотрите также:
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Glory to our Lord in the Sacrament of death,
Look to the death and misery of their sons,
With which filled the grave, and the mother of the earth long ago devoured them ...
Who has lived under the glow of your purulent
In search of you when you were among them.
The dead sing to you in silence,
They are within thy palaces of darkness, happy and empty,
In the arms of God who gave them life once,
To see death, and the death that they will contemplate ...
Blessed Lord in trouble, in the cold dead,
The poverty of mind starving,
Lord, blessed in pain, filth blessed,
Fire devouring scorn!
Coming the day when the stench of the Lord
Fill the empty body
Once eager kingdom of God ...
Those who are alive, chant thrice holy joy:
"Blessed is the Lord of our tribulation and death!"
The boundless thirst for words to explain
Shore dissimilar poles torn,
Tablets of the Lord's anointed vomiting of dogs prokaznyh
And pigs are eager to drop to the silhouettes of crosses.
Father! Your tablets collapsed ...
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1. The Lord is Blissful in Grief
Famed be our God in the sacrament of perdition!
Behold death and woe of your sons, who filled the graves
With themselves being devoured by Mother Earth ...
Who wasted their lives under your purulent shine,
Blindly searching for you ... Though you were amongst them
The dead sing their fame to you with silence
In your halls of darkness. They are so blissful and empty
In the embrace of God given life to them.
So they could see death ... And death they will behold;
Blissful be our God in grief and cold of the dead,
In beggar minds of striving ones,
God is blissful in pain,
Blissful in filth,
Omnivorous with your flame of scorn!
One day the stench of God
Will fill the empty bodies
Of craving after Heaven ...
You, who are still alive, sing thrice in your holy rapture -
Blissful be God in our grief and death!
Shores and poles are mutilated
In endless thirst for clarifying words;
God's tablets are spread with the vomit of leprous dogs;
And pigs are longing for pressing themselves to crosses.
Our Father! Your tablets are ruined!
