Song | Steven And I In The Field Of Stars |
Artist | Current 93 |
Album | Of Ruine Or Some Blazing Starre |
作词 : Tibet | |
Circles within circles | |
We ride through them all | |
Circles within circles | |
"In the midst of the Southern regions..." | |
There a man rests and weeps | |
This year, next year, | |
Sometimes, | |
Never, oh never | |
If we think then that there is | |
No joy | |
But listen: | |
On the edge of winds | |
Is the rustling of the greens | |
All many greens, manifold and lovely | |
The sighing and crying of the wind | |
The lovely boughs | |
The lovely light | |
The lovely light | |
The lovely starts, jewelly nobles | |
The pitted starheads of a burning fire | |
Burn far brighter burn brighter - | |
Starry glory golder flamey and lambent - | |
Than any other fires we know | |
The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight | |
The plumd bird, lovely voiced | |
Thestreakd cat, rooted hairshine | |
Head of furlight | |
Purr of bright sound | |
Lovely and noble, jewelly lords | |
So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights | |
Little houses of fire | |
In little towns of fire | |
Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes |
zuò cí : Tibet | |
Circles within circles | |
We ride through them all | |
Circles within circles | |
" In the midst of the Southern regions..." | |
There a man rests and weeps | |
This year, next year, | |
Sometimes, | |
Never, oh never | |
If we think then that there is | |
No joy | |
But listen: | |
On the edge of winds | |
Is the rustling of the greens | |
All many greens, manifold and lovely | |
The sighing and crying of the wind | |
The lovely boughs | |
The lovely light | |
The lovely light | |
The lovely starts, jewelly nobles | |
The pitted starheads of a burning fire | |
Burn far brighter burn brighter | |
Starry glory golder flamey and lambent | |
Than any other fires we know | |
The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight | |
The plumd bird, lovely voiced | |
Thestreakd cat, rooted hairshine | |
Head of furlight | |
Purr of bright sound | |
Lovely and noble, jewelly lords | |
So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights | |
Little houses of fire | |
In little towns of fire | |
Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes |