Энциклопедия

1. There's No Wine Like Bloods Crimson

Bloodred sky
Bloodred fields
The sun in it's last breath
Providing the shadows of the trees
A moment to dance before death
Still - their makers dance
In the cold breeze
That gives me the stench

Of blood not yet cold
And torn dead flesh

I raise my hammer of war
To call my vulture
Up high it flies from the fields
From it's kingdom it sees
The most wonderful sights
Dead men - wounded worms
The remains of a conquered land
My slaughters and victory

My hammer shall not yet rest
From the north I hear
Hordes of young men
How unaware they are of their people's
Angel of death
Their blood shall paint my armour
As I slay them all brutally

Down the hill they ride
I greet them with my war cry
As I slam my hammer into the ground
Come to me mortals

My wary hatred engraves
Fear in their faces as they see their death
I am war, I am death
My hammer crushes skulls and bones
Screams of fear
My sword thirst drowns in blood
Tears and begging for mercy
I laugh and kill
I am the god of war
I am Ares


2. As I March

My pale soul
Shines under my moon
On one of my bold mountains
I stand
I hold my torch high
Up against my black sky
The skulls in my belt
Glow in the light of the moon
As does my sword
More and more as the unpure blood
Runs off and down on my bold strong mountain
It runs

My mountain drinks
It calls the rain
It calls my father
Brutally they come

As thunder
They slam their powers
Deep into my pale soul
I scream in pain and lust
My wind brings the rain
From my mighty oceans
My black sky is still clear
I scream and laugh

As I dance the dance of war
Under my moon
In my storm
On one of my seven mountains


3. Warrior Of The Cresent Moon

In shimmering circles of silver light
In icy wind and spitting fire
Through flowing stream and ancient mountain
Thou alone dost see me

By lightning, thunder, hail and wind
I conjure thee
By sword of fire that can never fail
I conjure thee

I fall into the dark ravine
The clash of swords fills my spirit
Thou who shinest by night on the see
Casts the shadow of the arc over my soul

By ravens wings and serpents venom
Bestow your gifts upon me
By eye of wolf and dragons flame
Grant me your strength

I scream
The ravens battlecry
The powers of old embrace me
The arc of the crescent moon
Casts a shadow over my soul


4. Blodsverging

Mektige norske sjeler
Bemorket av norronsk trollskhet
Ut av taakeslor, de vandret
Morke krigerske sjeler
Stolthet styrket av blod
Majestetisk krigerske broderskap

Voldelige morke toner
Brutal atmosphere of morke tanker
Skulle styrke en enhet
Av stormfullt hat
Flammehav, blodige kjettinger
Svarte sinn i en evig reise

Ta sverdet fatt
Du nordsonn, knus dem ned
Norge skal bli vaart som for
Vi skal seire alle slag

La oss kjempe sammen
For vare stolte forfedre
La oss hedre dem
La oss seire
For dem


5. When The Crows Shadow Falls

At dusk a stillness falls
Defeated warriors seized from life
Shielding the landscape, they lie
As legions have before them

The crow spirals down
From it's tower of dominion
It's eternal quest is the blood of the slain
It sees battles, victories and visions foretold
It's eyes hold the secrets of eternity

Devouring warriors
Seeking spilled blood
The triple figure of war shall arise
A shape of black shadows
And wind blown leaves
It shall sweep the endless domain

Snowflakes soar on the northern wind
Figures transform to crystal and ice
The voice of the future
Cries out across the land

I am the wind that rolls from the sea
I am the darkness that cloaks your soul
I am the whisper that drifts through the trees
I am the fate that compels you all


6. Ild Dans

En evig vandring
Er inderlig onske
Hos et lite barn
Et miktig barn
Er avkom av ild

Dette vesen
Skal tilkalle en makt
Som skal blafre i nordens
Mektige storm

Bare hun kan vekke makten
Som hviler under bellig jord
Hun vil danse i vind
Og i ildens enorme omfavnelse

Dans i ilden
Ta ilden stige opp
La den berke
Og stikke hellig jord
Til aske, du vesen
Vis oss din ild dans


7. ...And So The Night Became

Cold earth
Blackened souls blessed by etenity
Dwelling under unholy ground
Forbidden thoughts and dreams
Provided by strong storms
Of bold beliefs and black
Souls of immortality
The demons are dancing

Creeping on the path
Clinging to the fairytale
Which they call religion
They are slayed by our demons
Of war and hurling storms
These are human creatures
Of a filthy and weak kind

As we crawl up and out
Of our cold earth with blood
On our hands and faces
We greet our brothers
With horned wings and cold minds
The dwelling and feeding
It is complete
Now we rise


8. Fyrndeheimen

[instrumental]

"...far back in time, where the outlines of
history dissolve, lies the world of myths, it
looses itself farther back into the mist of light
where pictures appear and then vanish in an
eternal stream. Through the cloudscapes of
the past the sunlight is falling in across ida
vollen, where the gods throw their golden
dice in the grass in fearless game, while
udarbrunnen trickles in the silence..."