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Nokturnal Mortum

The Forgotten Ages Of Victories

  black metal  nsbm  folk metal  pagan metal  folk black metal
445 3 часа назад

Текст песни Nokturnal Mortum - The Forgotten Ages Of Victories

Nokturnal Mortum - The Forgotten Ages Of Victories слова песни




The thunder of the drums is heard and cattle herds are driving back.Sunset is driving near,The heat of hoofs - all around melt awayin the shaggy beard of great and wise elder sunset.The forests and the mountains surrounding the villagehe covers by golden cloth - the night is drawing near.Bonfires blaze up and the flame tongues raise upto blacken sky like hands.The hearers faces are visible through the flame.The grey-haired elder opens the secret of his past,through night and fire his word again find the youth.His face covered with wrinkles like waterless earthshined with life as in his youth.And his tale was drifted through the timeto distant faraways of those days.When the steel was like continuation of the handand the warriors were not afraid of their enemies power -then moon was shining brighter and sun warned more times than nowadays.The forest has been lighted by thousand of bonfires,it have been seen that celebration has begun,and singing drowned the noise of the windbut (the) elder continued this tale.When the valor and the honor was valued oved lie and hypocrisy,when the pride and the eminencewas valued over the slavery and the cowardice.The enemies cities and villages were on fire!Blood and death, screams and mourns - Hell came out!The honor and the praise to power.The beat of hoofs and crunch of steel,the scythe of death flied over this field,eyes were looking into eyes and heavens were on fire!The warriors heart melted and tears appeared in the old eyes -the tears of the real master.His hand is clenched in the first,the teeth was gritted as that time,the ages of victories are over.It`s now time to wait.No sooner that the sun get out of continementand the first rays let the birds know that the day had come.No sooner that the herds were driving on the pasturethe hair of the old warrior was streaming by the breeze.He`d been looking at the farawaysand didn`t find that the celebration was over.His thoughts were with those far times.Like a cold shudder passed through his skin.He rose and returned back to his housenot left by the memories about those distant times.The honor and praise to power!The forgotten ages of victories.

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