Текст песни Satyricon - Havoc Vulture
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the one to bestow upon you life and death
the one to poison you when you're down
or to be the one to hand you the crownofthorns –
when your hands are sore
(and) to save you from everything you care for
Are you bitter when you see how pale you are?
Do you feel hate without direction?
A kind of seed inside you that never blossoms
It is at the gallows end one forgets that everything
has to have a greater meaning
An unrecognisable call drags you towards the un-
spoken word
to suffer Martyrdom for the others
The Saviour cut off your wings, somehow just to
remind you that He exists
Those who wait for His salt with open wounds
have a way to go
the shadow of you must rest (first)
Though I ask, why do you dig your own grave when
others do it for you?
The force behind the hit cannot be mistaken
'cause He's the saviour with magnanimity and
...a light in the dark
Maybe it is intimidating more than lighting the way,
where is the road going? To a place where you
can wash the blood off your hands?
Where did the knowing go? ...With a saviour to
transcendental kingdoms
or to the valley of the forgotten?
behind the vault of the sky's mystery lies a dream
damned or saved, how could we ever know?
Удивительно, как может быть спасителем тот,
Кто наградил тебя, одновременно, и жизнью и смертью
Тот, кто отравил тебя, когда ты был болен
Тот, кто протянул тебе терновый венец, когда твои руки были изранены
И тут же спасал тебя от болячек
Тебе становилось спокойнее, когда он показывал тебе твою слабость?
Или ты чувствовал неуправляемую ненависть?
Он посеял в тебя семя, которое никогда не прорастет
Ибо с петлей на шее человек перестает видеть во всем величайший смысл
Неузнаваемый зов вытаскивает из тебя несказанное слово
Обещание принять мученничество за других
Спаситель отрезает тебе крылья, чтобы хоть как-то напомнить о себе
Тем же, кто ждет его соли с отверзстыми ранами
Придется ждать еще долго
Тень твоя должна упокоиться
Но я вопрошаю, зачем ты роешь себе могилу, в то время
Как другие делают это для тебя?
Сила с которой наносится удар не может быть излишней
Ведь он же спаситель, обладающий великодушием и...
...свет во мраке
Может это устрашает больше, чем освещенный путь
Куда ведет эта дорога?
В место, где ты отмоешь свои руки от крови?
Кто знает куда идете вы за своим спасителем?!
В трансцендентальные царства или в долину забвения?
По другую сторону свода небесного таинства лежит сон, проклятие или спасение?
Откуда мы можем знать?! Wonder how it would be to be the great Redeemer
the one to bestow upon you life and death
the one to poison you when you're down
or to be the one to hand you the crownofthorns -
when your hands are sore
(and) to save you from everything you care for
Are you bitter when you see how pale you are?
Do you feel hate without direction?
A kind of seed inside you that never blossoms
It is at the gallows end one forgets that everything
has to have a greater meaning
An unrecognisable call drags you towards the un-
spoken word
to suffer Martyrdom for the others
The Saviour cut off your wings, somehow just to
remind you that He exists
Those who wait for His salt with open wounds
have a way to go
the shadow of you must rest (first)
Though I ask, why do you dig your own grave when
others do it for you?
The force behind the hit cannot be mistaken
'cause He's the saviour with magnanimity and
... a light in the dark
Maybe it is intimidating more than lighting the way,
where is the road going? To a place where you
can wash the blood off your hands?
Where did the knowing go? ... With a saviour to
transcendental kingdoms
or to the valley of the forgotten?
behind the vault of the sky's mystery lies a dream
damned or saved, how could we ever know?
Surprising as it may be a lifesaver one
Who gave you , at the same time , and life and death
One who poisoned you when you were sick
Whoever offered you a crown of thorns , when your hands were bruised
And then he saved you from sores
You became calmer when he showed you your weakness ?
Or did you feel uncontrollable hatred ?
He sowed the seed in you that will never sprout
For a noose around his neck man ceases to see throughout the greatest sense
Unrecognizable call pulls you into the ineffable word
Promise to take muchennichestvo for others
Savior cuts you wings to somehow remind myself
Those who are waiting for him with salt otverzstymi wounds
Have to wait a long time
Your shadow should rest in peace
But have I asked , why did you burrow own grave , while
Others do it for you?
Force which is hit can not be excessive
For he is the savior who has the generosity and ...
light in the darkness ...
Maybe it terrifies more than lit path
Where does this road go ?
In a place where you otmoesh their hands with the blood ?
Who knows where you'll go for their savior ?
In the transcendental realm of oblivion or the valley ?
On the other side is the sacrament of the heavenly vault sleep, curse or salvation?
How do we know ?
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