Текст песни Manegarm - Hemfard
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Höstens första gryning stiger stilla, sprider sina färger över frostig äng. Löv faller mot marken, ett stormande hav av färger. Ett bidande mörker, står åter vid årets port...Landet faller mot en stilla dvala. Dunkla ter sig dagarna, under moln tyngda av regn. Isig är Rimfaxes fradga i arla timma. Ropen från skogen kallar mig hem, till mina fränder...till min säng. Hemåt, hemåt...viskar mitt inre Hem till djupa dalar och lövfyllda sänkor Till stigarna jag alltid vandrat, till bäckar som släckt min törst Till gölar och sjöar för mig så bekanta, där jag speglat mig, svalkat mig under stjärnklara nätter Hem, för att känna morgonbrisens kyla på rådarnas berg...hem Tankar vandrar över gammal mark. Ekon av det gamla arvets hopp. Sluten av gudarnas tunga andedräkt Askens blad viskar stilla, täljer om jorden och världar nedan, om bergen och de som där råda Viskar om det som är mitt hem Dess rötter som sig svalka i underjordens kalla strömmar. Täljer om visdom som dväljs och urkraften som glöder däri. Viskar om havet och bäckarna som där mynnar Om skogen som ruvar dunkel och stilla fylld av minnen och gamla sår Seg och kraftfull, stolt och klok. Med roten i myllan fylld av livets dryck Täljer om de gamla folken, de vackra som dansar över myren. Om skogens konung som stilla vakar vid tjärnens kant Om skogens härskarinna den fagra som förvillar. Detta kvinnliga väsen ljuvt doftande av löv Den viskar om himlen och stjärnorna där ovan, om hemligheterna som djäljes där. Viskar nordanbäckens friska vatten. Talar om Bifrost den slutliga vägen hem... Stilla går solen ned i horisonten, de två världarna möts... ett drömmens rike faller inpå. från tjärnen stiger en dimma, lätt som älvors tårar. vandrar ovan den svarta ytan. Än en gång står jag här. På rådarnas berg. Känner nattbrisens kyla. Månen sjunger sin full. Hör mina fränder ropa. Välkomnar mig hem. Aldrig mer lämnar jag detta. Detta eviga bo. [Translate to English:] The first dawn of autumn slowly rises. Spreading colour over frosty meadow. Leaves fall to the ground. A storming sea of colours. A biding darkness is yet again at Year's gate. The land sinks into a quiet torpor. The days appear dim under clouds heavy with rain. Icy is the froth of Rimfax in the early hours. The calls from the forest call me home. To my kin... to my bed. Homeward, homeward my inner whispers. Home to deep valleys and leaf-filled vales. To the paths I've always wandered. To streams that have quenched my thirst. To ponds and lakes so known to me. Where I've watched my reflection, cooled in the night under star-filled sky. Home, to feel the chill of the morning breeze on the mountain of the Fey... Home. Thoughts wander over ancient land. Hope from the old legacy echoes. Shrouded in the heavy breath of gods. The leaves of the ash whisper quietly. They tell of earth and worlds below. Of mountains and those who rule there. They whisper of that which is my home. These roots that cool. In the cold streams of the underworld. They tell of wisdom that dwell. And the primal force glowing therein. They whisper of the sea. And the brooks flowing there. Of the forest brooding dark and still. Filled with memories and old wounds. Tenacious and powerful. Proud and wise. With the root in the soil. Filled with the liquid of life. They tell of the old people. The beautiful that dance over the bog. Of Смотрите также:
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First dawn of autumn rises Spreading
color over frosty meadow. Leaves fall to the ground,
a stormy sea of colors.
A biding darkness yet again at this year's Port ... The country falls
into a quiet slumber . Days appear dim , the clouds heavy with
rain. Icy is Rimfax froth
in the early hours .
Calls from the forest call me home to my
kin ... to my bed. Homeward, homeward ... my inner whispers
Home to deep valleys and lövfyllda sinks
To the paths I've always wandered into streams that quenched my thirst
To ponds and lakes so known to me , where I watched my reflection , cooled in the
me under the starry nights
Home, to feel the chill of the morning
on the fey mountain ... home
Thoughts wander over old ground . Echoes of the
old legacy of hope. Enclosed by the gods heavy breath
Askens leaves whisper quietly , carving the earth and
worlds below , the mountains and those which prevail
Whisper of it as my home
Its roots as the coolness in during the colder
streams. They tell of wisdom that dwell and
primal force glowing therein.
Whisper of the sea and the creeks flowing there
If forest brooding dark and still
Filled with memories and old wounds
Tough and powerful , proud and wise. With root in the soil
filled with the liquid of life
They tell of the ancient peoples , the beautiful dancing
the mire . If the king of the forest Quietly watching the tarn
border
If the forest's mistress the fair misleading .
This female being delightful scent of leaves
The whisper of the sky and the stars above ,
Of the secrets djäljes there. Whispers northern brook healthy
water. Talking about Bifrost the final road home ...
Still the sun sets in the horizon, the two worlds meet ...
A kingdom of dreams falls closely .
From the lake a mist rises slightly as tears of elves .
wandering over the black surface .
Once again , I stand here. On the fey rock .
Do cool night breeze . The moon sings its full .
Hear my kin call . Welcome me home .
Never will I leave this . Eternal home .
[Translate to English: ]
The first dawn of autumn slowly rises . Spreading color over frosty meadow . Leaves cases to the ground .
A storming sea of colors .
A biding darkness is yet again at Year's gate.
The country sinks into a quiet torpor .
The days Appear dim in clouds heavy with rain .
Icy is the froth of Rimfax in the early hours .
The calls from the forest call me home . To my kin ...
to my bed. Homeward , homeward my inner whispers .
Home to deep valleys and leaf -filled vales .
To the paths I've always wandered . To streams thathave quenched my thirst . To ponds and lakes so known to me . Where I've watched my reflection, cooled in the night under the star -filled sky .
Home, to feel the chill of the morning breeze on the mountain of the Fey ... Home.
Thoughts wander over ancient land .
Hope from the old legacy echoes .
Shrouded in the heavy breath of goods.
The leaves of the ash whisper quietly .
They tell of earth and worlds below .
Of mountains and Those Who rule there .
They whisper of That Which is my home .
These roots that cool . In the cold streams of the underworld . They tell of wisdom That dwell . And the primal force glowing therein .
They whisper of the sea . And the brooks flowing there . Of the forest brooding dark and still. Filled with memories and old wounds .
Tenacious and powerful . Proud and wise. With the root into the soil . Filled with the liquid of life . They tell of the old people . The beautiful That dance over the bow . of
