Song | Moonsongs |
Artist | Thinking Plague |
Album | In This Life |
作词 : Johnson | |
Wooded hill | |
in the hoary mantle of moonlight | |
by the cloud rack tattered | |
a summit bared to wind and storm | |
dolmen looms | |
over granite platform where soon | |
in anger and in glory | |
the ancient one | |
will dance once more | |
Silence falls | |
sailing orb approaches | |
the vertex | |
fear and hope are melded | |
as on the stone | |
a red light grows | |
human tears | |
poured from vessels oaken | |
ignite the stone | |
wolves and jackals dancing | |
and in their midst the mother smiles | |
I am a stag of seven tines | |
she is a flood across a plain | |
I am a wind on a bottomless lake | |
she is a tear shed by the sun | |
I am a hawk above a cliff | |
she is a thorn beneath a nail | |
I am a wonder among the flowers | |
she is a wizard | |
I am a spear that roars for blood | |
she is a salmon in a pool | |
I am a lure from paradise | |
she is a hill where poets walk | |
I am boar, ruthless and red | |
she is a breaker threatening doom | |
I am a tide that drags to death | |
she is an infant | |
I am the womb of every holt | |
she is the blaze on every hill | |
I am the queen of every hive | |
she is a shield for every head | |
I am the birth of every song | |
she is a nightmare in your sleep | |
I am the tomb of every hope | |
In high places | |
they do not know me | |
They kill and rape my children, | |
preach falsehoods, | |
which they say god gave them | |
Though you build | |
edifice and pavement and furnaces, | |
belching gouts of poison, | |
and though you keep the land at bay, | |
I am here | |
after all these centuries | |
and very soon | |
you will know again | |
the darkness of | |
my timeless womb |
zuò cí : Johnson | |
Wooded hill | |
in the hoary mantle of moonlight | |
by the cloud rack tattered | |
a summit bared to wind and storm | |
dolmen looms | |
over granite platform where soon | |
in anger and in glory | |
the ancient one | |
will dance once more | |
Silence falls | |
sailing orb approaches | |
the vertex | |
fear and hope are melded | |
as on the stone | |
a red light grows | |
human tears | |
poured from vessels oaken | |
ignite the stone | |
wolves and jackals dancing | |
and in their midst the mother smiles | |
I am a stag of seven tines | |
she is a flood across a plain | |
I am a wind on a bottomless lake | |
she is a tear shed by the sun | |
I am a hawk above a cliff | |
she is a thorn beneath a nail | |
I am a wonder among the flowers | |
she is a wizard | |
I am a spear that roars for blood | |
she is a salmon in a pool | |
I am a lure from paradise | |
she is a hill where poets walk | |
I am boar, ruthless and red | |
she is a breaker threatening doom | |
I am a tide that drags to death | |
she is an infant | |
I am the womb of every holt | |
she is the blaze on every hill | |
I am the queen of every hive | |
she is a shield for every head | |
I am the birth of every song | |
she is a nightmare in your sleep | |
I am the tomb of every hope | |
In high places | |
they do not know me | |
They kill and rape my children, | |
preach falsehoods, | |
which they say god gave them | |
Though you build | |
edifice and pavement and furnaces, | |
belching gouts of poison, | |
and though you keep the land at bay, | |
I am here | |
after all these centuries | |
and very soon | |
you will know again | |
the darkness of | |
my timeless womb |