Cris d'Aveugle Lyrics
| Song | Cris d'Aveugle |
| Artist | Diamanda Galás |
| Album | Saint of the Pit |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Galas | |
| text by Tristan Corbiere (1873) | |
| L'oeil tué n'est pas mort | |
| Un coin le fend encor | |
| Encloué je suis sans cercueil | |
| On m'a planté le clou dans l'oeil | |
| L'oeil cloué n'est pas mort | |
| Et le coin entre encor | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Le marteau bat ma tête en bois | |
| Le marteau qui ferra la croix | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Les oiseaux croque-morts | |
| Ont donc peur à mon corps | |
| Mon Golgotha n'est pas fini | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Colombes de la Mort | |
| Soiffez après mon corps | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Comme la gencive bavant | |
| D'une vieille qui rit sans dent | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| Je vois des cercles d'or | |
| Le soleil blanc me mord | |
| J'ai deux trous percés par un fer | |
| Rougi dans la forge d'enfer | |
| Je vois un cercle d'or | |
| Le feu d'en haut me mord | |
| Dans la moelle se tord | |
| Une larme qui sort | |
| Je vois dedans le paradis | |
| Miserere, De profundis | |
| Dans mon crâne se tord | |
| Du soufre en pleur qui sort | |
| Bienheureux le bon mort | |
| Le mort sauvé qui dort | |
| Heureux les martyrs, les élus | |
| Avec la Vierge et son Jésus | |
| O bienheureux le mort | |
| Le mort jugé qui dort | |
| Un Chevalier dehors | |
| Repose sans remords | |
| Dans le cimetière bénit | |
| Dans sa sieste de granit | |
| L'homme en pierre dehors | |
| A deux yeux sans remords | |
| Ho je vous sens encor | |
| Landes jaunes d'Armor | |
| Je sens mon rosaire à mes doigts | |
| Et le Christ en os sur le bois | |
| A toi je baye encor | |
| O ciel défunt d'Armor | |
| Pardon de prier fort | |
| Seigneur si c'est le sort | |
| Mes yeux, deux bénitiers ardents | |
| Le diable a mis ses doigts dedans | |
| Pardon de crier fort | |
| Seigneur contre le sort | |
| J'entends le vent du nord | |
| Qui bugle comme un cor | |
| C'est l'hallali des trépassés | |
| J'aboie après mon tour assez | |
| J'entends le vent du nord | |
| J'entends le glas du cor | |
| text by Diamanda Galas | |
| Dios, porque me has condendado? | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Esta es mi sangre | |
| Este es mi cuerpo | |
| Estas son mis venas | |
| Estoy siego | |
| Dios, no puedo ver! | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Aves de la muerte | |
| Quiten me la vida! | |
| lamma lamma | |
| sabacthani! | |
| Translation by Kenny Koch & George Guy: | |
| Blind Man's Cry | |
| The Murdered eye is not dead | |
| A spike still splits it | |
| Nailed up I am coffinless | |
| They drove the nail in my eye | |
| The nailed eye is not dead | |
| And the spike still splits it | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The hammer pounds my wooden head | |
| The hammer that will make the cross | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The undertaker birds | |
| Are thus afraid of my body | |
| My gologotha is not over | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Doves of Death | |
| Be thirsty for my body | |
| Red as a gun-port | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Like the drooling gum | |
| Of a toothless laughing old woman | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Red as a gun-port | |
| I see circles of gold | |
| The white sun bites me | |
| I've two holes pierced by an iron bar | |
| Reddened in the forge of hell | |
| I see a circle of gold | |
| The sky's fire bites me | |
| In the marrow twists | |
| A tear which comes out | |
| I see inside paradise | |
| Miserere de profundis | |
| In my skull twists | |
| A sulfur tear which comes out | |
| Blessed the good dead man | |
| The saved dead man who sleeps | |
| Happy the martyrs the chosen | |
| With the Virgin and the Jesus | |
| Oh blessed the dead man | |
| The judged dead man who sleeps | |
| A knight outside | |
| Reposes without remorse | |
| In the hallowed cemetery | |
| In his granite siesta | |
| The man of stone outside | |
| Has two eyes without remorse | |
| Oh, I feel you still | |
| Yellow moors of Armor | |
| I feel my rosary in my fingers | |
| And Christ in bore on the wood | |
| I gape at you still | |
| O dead Armor Sky | |
| Pardon for praying hard | |
| Lord, if it is fate | |
| My esyes two burning holy-water fonts | |
| The devil puts his fingers inside | |
| Pardon for crying loud | |
| Lord against fate | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| Which bugles like a horn | |
| It is the hunting call for the kill of the dead | |
| I bay enough on my own | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| I hear the horn's knell |
| zuo ci : Galas | |
| text by Tristan Corbiere 1873 | |
| L' oeil tue n' est pas mort | |
| Un coin le fend encor | |
| Encloue je suis sans cercueil | |
| On m' a plante le clou dans l' oeil | |
| L' oeil cloue n' est pas mort | |
| Et le coin entre encor | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Le marteau bat ma t te en bois | |
| Le marteau qui ferra la croix | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Les oiseaux croquemorts | |
| Ont donc peur a mon corps | |
| Mon Golgotha n' est pas fini | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Colombes de la Mort | |
| Soiffez apre s mon corps | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Comme la gencive bavant | |
| D' une vieille qui rit sans dent | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| Je vois des cercles d' or | |
| Le soleil blanc me mord | |
| J' ai deux trous perce s par un fer | |
| Rougi dans la forge d' enfer | |
| Je vois un cercle d' or | |
| Le feu d' en haut me mord | |
| Dans la moelle se tord | |
| Une larme qui sort | |
| Je vois dedans le paradis | |
| Miserere, De profundis | |
| Dans mon cr ne se tord | |
| Du soufre en pleur qui sort | |
| Bienheureux le bon mort | |
| Le mort sauve qui dort | |
| Heureux les martyrs, les e lus | |
| Avec la Vierge et son Je sus | |
| O bienheureux le mort | |
| Le mort juge qui dort | |
| Un Chevalier dehors | |
| Repose sans remords | |
| Dans le cimetie re be nit | |
| Dans sa sieste de granit | |
| L' homme en pierre dehors | |
| A deux yeux sans remords | |
| Ho je vous sens encor | |
| Landes jaunes d' Armor | |
| Je sens mon rosaire a mes doigts | |
| Et le Christ en os sur le bois | |
| A toi je baye encor | |
| O ciel de funt d' Armor | |
| Pardon de prier fort | |
| Seigneur si c' est le sort | |
| Mes yeux, deux be nitiers ardents | |
| Le diable a mis ses doigts dedans | |
| Pardon de crier fort | |
| Seigneur contre le sort | |
| J' entends le vent du nord | |
| Qui bugle comme un cor | |
| C' est l' hallali des tre passe s | |
| J' aboie apre s mon tour assez | |
| J' entends le vent du nord | |
| J' entends le glas du cor | |
| text by Diamanda Galas | |
| Dios, porque me has condendado? | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Esta es mi sangre | |
| Este es mi cuerpo | |
| Estas son mis venas | |
| Estoy siego | |
| Dios, no puedo ver! | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Aves de la muerte | |
| Quiten me la vida! | |
| lamma lamma | |
| sabacthani! | |
| Translation by Kenny Koch George Guy: | |
| Blind Man' s Cry | |
| The Murdered eye is not dead | |
| A spike still splits it | |
| Nailed up I am coffinless | |
| They drove the nail in my eye | |
| The nailed eye is not dead | |
| And the spike still splits it | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The hammer pounds my wooden head | |
| The hammer that will make the cross | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The undertaker birds | |
| Are thus afraid of my body | |
| My gologotha is not over | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Doves of Death | |
| Be thirsty for my body | |
| Red as a gunport | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Like the drooling gum | |
| Of a toothless laughing old woman | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Red as a gunport | |
| I see circles of gold | |
| The white sun bites me | |
| I' ve two holes pierced by an iron bar | |
| Reddened in the forge of hell | |
| I see a circle of gold | |
| The sky' s fire bites me | |
| In the marrow twists | |
| A tear which comes out | |
| I see inside paradise | |
| Miserere de profundis | |
| In my skull twists | |
| A sulfur tear which comes out | |
| Blessed the good dead man | |
| The saved dead man who sleeps | |
| Happy the martyrs the chosen | |
| With the Virgin and the Jesus | |
| Oh blessed the dead man | |
| The judged dead man who sleeps | |
| A knight outside | |
| Reposes without remorse | |
| In the hallowed cemetery | |
| In his granite siesta | |
| The man of stone outside | |
| Has two eyes without remorse | |
| Oh, I feel you still | |
| Yellow moors of Armor | |
| I feel my rosary in my fingers | |
| And Christ in bore on the wood | |
| I gape at you still | |
| O dead Armor Sky | |
| Pardon for praying hard | |
| Lord, if it is fate | |
| My esyes two burning holywater fonts | |
| The devil puts his fingers inside | |
| Pardon for crying loud | |
| Lord against fate | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| Which bugles like a horn | |
| It is the hunting call for the kill of the dead | |
| I bay enough on my own | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| I hear the horn' s knell |
| zuò cí : Galas | |
| text by Tristan Corbiere 1873 | |
| L' oeil tué n' est pas mort | |
| Un coin le fend encor | |
| Encloué je suis sans cercueil | |
| On m' a planté le clou dans l' oeil | |
| L' oeil cloué n' est pas mort | |
| Et le coin entre encor | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Le marteau bat ma t te en bois | |
| Le marteau qui ferra la croix | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Les oiseaux croquemorts | |
| Ont donc peur à mon corps | |
| Mon Golgotha n' est pas fini | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Colombes de la Mort | |
| Soiffez aprè s mon corps | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Comme la gencive bavant | |
| D' une vieille qui rit sans dent | |
| La plaie est sur le bord | |
| Rouge comme un sabord | |
| Je vois des cercles d' or | |
| Le soleil blanc me mord | |
| J' ai deux trous percé s par un fer | |
| Rougi dans la forge d' enfer | |
| Je vois un cercle d' or | |
| Le feu d' en haut me mord | |
| Dans la moelle se tord | |
| Une larme qui sort | |
| Je vois dedans le paradis | |
| Miserere, De profundis | |
| Dans mon cr ne se tord | |
| Du soufre en pleur qui sort | |
| Bienheureux le bon mort | |
| Le mort sauvé qui dort | |
| Heureux les martyrs, les é lus | |
| Avec la Vierge et son Jé sus | |
| O bienheureux le mort | |
| Le mort jugé qui dort | |
| Un Chevalier dehors | |
| Repose sans remords | |
| Dans le cimetiè re bé nit | |
| Dans sa sieste de granit | |
| L' homme en pierre dehors | |
| A deux yeux sans remords | |
| Ho je vous sens encor | |
| Landes jaunes d' Armor | |
| Je sens mon rosaire à mes doigts | |
| Et le Christ en os sur le bois | |
| A toi je baye encor | |
| O ciel dé funt d' Armor | |
| Pardon de prier fort | |
| Seigneur si c' est le sort | |
| Mes yeux, deux bé nitiers ardents | |
| Le diable a mis ses doigts dedans | |
| Pardon de crier fort | |
| Seigneur contre le sort | |
| J' entends le vent du nord | |
| Qui bugle comme un cor | |
| C' est l' hallali des tré passé s | |
| J' aboie aprè s mon tour assez | |
| J' entends le vent du nord | |
| J' entends le glas du cor | |
| text by Diamanda Galas | |
| Dios, porque me has condendado? | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Esta es mi sangre | |
| Este es mi cuerpo | |
| Estas son mis venas | |
| Estoy siego | |
| Dios, no puedo ver! | |
| mavpes apakvuthes! | |
| lamma sabacthani! | |
| Aves de la muerte | |
| Quiten me la vida! | |
| lamma lamma | |
| sabacthani! | |
| Translation by Kenny Koch George Guy: | |
| Blind Man' s Cry | |
| The Murdered eye is not dead | |
| A spike still splits it | |
| Nailed up I am coffinless | |
| They drove the nail in my eye | |
| The nailed eye is not dead | |
| And the spike still splits it | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The hammer pounds my wooden head | |
| The hammer that will make the cross | |
| Deus misericors | |
| Deus misericors | |
| The undertaker birds | |
| Are thus afraid of my body | |
| My gologotha is not over | |
| Lamma lamma sabacthani | |
| Doves of Death | |
| Be thirsty for my body | |
| Red as a gunport | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Like the drooling gum | |
| Of a toothless laughing old woman | |
| The sore is on the edge | |
| Red as a gunport | |
| I see circles of gold | |
| The white sun bites me | |
| I' ve two holes pierced by an iron bar | |
| Reddened in the forge of hell | |
| I see a circle of gold | |
| The sky' s fire bites me | |
| In the marrow twists | |
| A tear which comes out | |
| I see inside paradise | |
| Miserere de profundis | |
| In my skull twists | |
| A sulfur tear which comes out | |
| Blessed the good dead man | |
| The saved dead man who sleeps | |
| Happy the martyrs the chosen | |
| With the Virgin and the Jesus | |
| Oh blessed the dead man | |
| The judged dead man who sleeps | |
| A knight outside | |
| Reposes without remorse | |
| In the hallowed cemetery | |
| In his granite siesta | |
| The man of stone outside | |
| Has two eyes without remorse | |
| Oh, I feel you still | |
| Yellow moors of Armor | |
| I feel my rosary in my fingers | |
| And Christ in bore on the wood | |
| I gape at you still | |
| O dead Armor Sky | |
| Pardon for praying hard | |
| Lord, if it is fate | |
| My esyes two burning holywater fonts | |
| The devil puts his fingers inside | |
| Pardon for crying loud | |
| Lord against fate | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| Which bugles like a horn | |
| It is the hunting call for the kill of the dead | |
| I bay enough on my own | |
| I hear the northwind | |
| I hear the horn' s knell |
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