Tartalomjegyzék
A napló közvetlen linkje: http://teveclub.hu/naplo/86095
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2006-08-10
Ezen a napon Cradle of Filth szövegeket választottam témám tárgyává. Többszempontból is elgondolkoztatóak, és kiemelendő az igen egyéni, régi angol nyelv- és szóhasználat, ami tekintve hogy a zenekar angol, nem tűnik első látásra nagy dolognak, azonban ezt nem tudásvillogtatásra használják, hanem ősi értékek megvilágitására.
Persze, hogy a megértés szikrája felvillanyjon valakiben, ahhoz többször is elkell olvasni es gondolkodni az olvasottakon.
Ami fontos az az hogy nem a magát "haladó"-nak kikiáltó ember szeméből kell kell nezni, pontosabban nem az Ő agyával kell olvasni, mert ők mindent látnak csak azt nem h mi az igazság, és ha egy dolgot tévesen értelmezünk, akkor tévkonklúzió keletkeyink és teljes zavar lesz az illető elméjében és a végén azt hiszi mindent ért, pedig csak azt nem h mit akar mondani, jelenti az amit olvasott.
Szerintem elég jól megfogalmaztam hogyan álljunk neki ezt olvasni, ugyh talán vágjunk is bele.
1. Bathory Aria
[I. Benighted Like Usher]
Snuffed tapers sighed
As Death left impressing
His crest of cold tears on the Countess
Benighted like ill-fated Usher
The House of Bathory shrouded
'Neath griefs dark facade
If only I could have wept
In mourning by Her side
I would have clasped Her so tight
Like storm-beached Aphrodite
Drowned on Kytherean tides
And Kissed Her
For from Her alone
My lips would have known
Enigmas of shadowy vistas
Where pleasures took flesh
And pain, remorseless
Came freezing the breath
Of raucous life hushed unto whispers
Benighted.
Inhaling the pale waning moonlight that crept
Through the crypt of Her Lord who so lucidly slept
Benighted.
Exhaling the wail of black widowhood's toll
Waxing eternal night entered Her soul
[II. A Murder of Ravens in Fugue]
Now haranguing grey skies
With revenge upon life
Gnathic and Sapphic
Needs begged gendercide
Delusions of Grandier denounced the revolt
Of descrying cursed glass, disenchanted in vaults
Encircled by glyphs midst Her sin-sistered cult
With hangman's abandon She plied spiritworlds
To Archangels in bondage
From light to night hurled
Cast down to the earth where torment would unfurl.......
But soon,
Her tarot proved
Hybrid rumours spread like tumours
Would accrue
And blight Her stars
However scarred
To better bitter truths
Of cold bloodbaths
As bodies rose
In rigid droves
To haunt Her from their
Shallow burials imposed
When wolves exhumed
Their carthen wombs
Where heavy frosts had laboured long
To bare their wounds
To the depths of Her soul they pursued
Wielding their poison they flew
Like a murder of ravens in fugue
And knowing their raptures
Would shatter Her dreams
She clawed blackened books for damnation's reprieve
Baneful cawed canons on amassed enemies
So Hallow's Eve
As She received
Like Bellona to the ball
Those enemies
Fell-sisters heaved
Her torturies
Cross stained flagstones
To Her carriage reined to flee
But She knew She must brave the night through
Though fear crept a deathshead o'er the moon
Like a murder of ravens in Fugue
For each masked, jewelled gaze held dread purpose
Horror froze painted eyes to cold stares
And even Her dance
In the vast mirrors cast
Looked the ill of Her future
If fate feasted there....
[III. Eyes That Witnessed Madness]
In an age crucified by the nails of faith
When rank scarecrows of christ blighted lands
An aloof Countess born an obsidian wraith
Dared the abyss knowing well She was damned
Her life whispered grief like a funeral march
Twisted and yearning, obsessed an entranced
With those succumbing to cruelty
Crushed 'neath the gait of Her dance
A whirlwind of fire that swept through the briers
Of sweet rose Her thickets of black thorn had grasped...
She demanded the Heavens and forever to glean
The elixir of Youth from the pure
Whilst Her lesbian fantasies
Reamed to extremes
O'er decades unleashed
Came for blood's silken cure
But Her reign ended swiftly
For Dark Gods dreamt too deep
To heed Her pleas
When Her gaolers were assailed
With condemnations from a priest
Who'd stammered rites
In the dead of night
For maidens staining winding sheets
And She postured proud
When Her crimes were trowelled
And jezebelled to peasant lips
Though She smelt the fires
That licked limbs higher
To the tortured cunts of accomplices
So ends this twisted fable's worth
And though spared the pyre's bite
By dint of nobled bloodlined birth
Her sins (crimes) garnered Her no respite
Forever severed from the thrill of coming night
Where slow Death alone could grant Her flight
"The Spirits have all but fled judgement
I rot, alone, insane,
Where the forest whispers puce laments for me
From amidst the pine and wreathed wolfsbane
Beyond these walls, wherein condemned
To the gloom of an austere tomb
I pace with feral madness sent
Through the pale beams of a guiltless moon
Who, bereft of necrologies, thus
Commands creation over the earth
Whilst I resign my lips to death
A slow cold kiss that chides rebirth
Though one last wish is bequathed by fate
My beauty shalt wilt, unseen
Save for twin black eyes that shalt come to take
My soul to peace or Hell for company"
2. Born In A Burial Gown
Sibilant and macabre
Walpurgis sauntered in
Skies litten with five-pointed stars
The work of crafts surpassing sin
As She graced Her window ledge
- An orphaned gypsy nymph
This issue of the forest's bed
Skin flushed with sipped absinthe -
Her eyes revealed, as Brocken's peak
Tried once concealing Hell
A snow white line of divine freaks
In riot, where they fell...
The circus lurches in, a ring of promised delight
For seven days and seven festival nights
What wicked wonders lie within the comfines
Of the panther's den
She watches from a maypole, on the rip of Her tongue
The restless spirit of Christmas to come
A Gretel sick of merely sucking Her thumb
Than gingerbread men
Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going down
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown
Unloosed, the chain of Her god-given cross
Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe Her repose
In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost
Too many decades misfit and mislaid
In innocence, a tender legend of prey
Parades Her second coming, now they're running afraid
Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going down
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown
Now She moves with a predator's guile
Beyond the firelit circle of life
She soothes your cold heart for a while
Then matches its beat, synching in with a knife
She wrestles Her dreams with a delicate case
Espied by Her cross on the wall
And should She awake, through embrace or mistake
She would take Jesus
Bless foot forward and all...
Sibiliant and at last
The circus crawled away
With another lover in its arms
Dancing on Her grave...
3. Summer Dying Fast
Through acrid clouds of summer flies
The garden swells with a thousand more wise
Forever flung to celestial dreams
Clawing at the grave of the dead nazarene
I watch the storm approaching
The darkness calls my name
The trees are growing restless
They feel the season change
Their fruit has putrified
Forbidden once and bound to die
The thread of life lies severed
On the brink of paradise
Grinning winds of hate unfurled
Dash towers tall that grip the sun
Talons stretch her veil
Reclamation, our time has come...
Autumn spreads its golden wings
And lays the path for those unseen
A tangled web of evil spun at last...
Winter spawn from barren thighs
To readdress, to slay the blind
And throw the reins untethered to the skies
They pray to the full moon rising
Diana moving with such infinite grace
Wrapped alone in a blanket of nightfall
How many secrets can they read by your face?
Will they know of majesty
Of beauty held in dream-dead sleep
And scarlet seas that bleed the frozen shores?
Will their "god" of bridled love
Assuage our rule from planes above
Or shrink in fear from Chaos roused for war?
WAR!
Wrest askew the nails
That have held you, lurking deep
September prayers are waning
Burn the shrines of fettered sheep
Spearhead the insurrection
Of a world that seeks no end
"We are what we are, what we shall be, again..."
Appear; draped in terror
To the comfort of your kin
Stain the milky sunset red
And let the other in...
Summer's dying...
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