Текст песни Bal-Sagoth - A Tale From The Deep Woods
Bal-Sagoth - A Tale From The Deep Woods слова песни
The ravens are on the wing!My scramasax is red (stained with the blood of many Mercian warriors),The ravens are on the wing,By Offa`s decree I am an outlaw,Branded wolfshead by my own king.(The orm-garth awaits me, darkly astir with ophidian malice...)The ravens are on the wing!Ash for our spear-hafts,Yew for our bow-staves,Oak for our deck planks,Oak and elder our shields.Hail, o` great liege of the ancient woods, ruler of the deepest forest... you,who were reigning o`er your time-veiled kingdom centuries before the arrogantmen who proclaim themselves kings of this island ever supped of life`sbitter-sweet draught...I give you my hail,I give you my blood,I give you my life,O` sylvan liege.My life bleeds forth unto the earth (from many deep and dire wounds), To slakeyour roots, great old king... (as I rest my battle-ravaged body againstthee.)The ravens are on the wing!Ten leagues ride on lathered steed,Gold in hand to a sword-for-hire,A blood-eagle carved by Saxon steel,And two score slain earns royal ire.Gwynned lies two days westwards,Still further south, the weregeld calls.Mayhap with All-Father Woden`s favour,My deeds may yet inspire the skalds.Litha`s moon gleams high o`er the tallest oak,Ancient king in this sylvan court of elm, ash and yew,The wood-spirits watch from gnarled bough and bole,As I pull two Mercian shafts from my bloodied thews.The ravens are on the wing!I give you my hail,I give you my blood,I give you my life,O` sylvan liege.Beneath the oak, I rest, bone weary,Thirsting for a horn of ale or jug of mead,And yet how could a heathen man wish for any more,Than the healing balms of English trees?The ravens are on the wing!