хоть и не просили ;) все равно кому-то интересно будет
I Feel The Breath Of Ragnarok
The Wanderer, the one who walks these earthly roads what do you seek among this rotten world here where only betrayals and meanness could survive By your faith in your fatherland they would call you heretic may it be the honour you're looking for but it exists no longer or may it be kinsmenship The one you'll never find once a hand of your brother is eager to stab you back with knife so the human worm do mock the greater gods for ages the cursed from was forged The road from honest sword towards the coward bullet And the very thunders forged in the heavenly amory now could be hiding in the electric chair. The world is drunk with dump and bitter darkness, it's burned by the run to progress It's eaten up and put ob knees before the scoundlers here is the final of your amazing play But to live upon your pain, we walk towards our doom - we true awaiting Ragnarok To be a kinsmen, it means to truly be one's brother to be in brotherhood it means to die for them But so many here try to find the fault, the fault in their own brothers And murder them to the greater joy of the crucified fag When the glitter of gold is more precious than the rays of shining sun The soul went blind from dirt they throw upon my eyes The worm crowls towards the gold together with salvation prays And coated into spiders web, the one just like the thousands others The coward tries to steal the strength of the strongest The man is stealing the force which was given to the gods To stay the same to isolate yourself from others or burn in soulside flames die young To be all or no one to be the shadow behind it all or one could be a greater memory among its folk Who is greater, the wolf or the bear or maybe falkon is better than the raven Inside of senceless questions anong the foolish people I feel Ragnarok breaths to be alive, means to true at full do not await till oldness take your breath Watch the stars and walk your only path its time for vilest Ragnarok
Weltanschauung
The strength grown up upon the remains of the wise thoughts The greater faith from the most ancient depths Drenched in blood by the fault of insane Just sleeeping it was and reacking for its tops The call of the macrocosm, a chilling chant When the flask remains the only excuse to stay here Death hasn't been studied yet and the life still hasn't died in pain With the knife, with the runes to cut your veins An empty void a temple of endless sleep Infinity and darkness an empty void A song of the ice and the stars that ring on this blackness A touch of cold, an empty void The thread of fate is burning with a brightest light One day it shall get tired of burning And shall fall down, on the wings of glory shall it echo Here is your threshold and Algiz it fell into the shades The stardust is calling to the most distant fars And only our waiting keeps this endless night alive steel cold wind pierces us with its breath Through the pain shall you perceive delight of birth memories Of the greater past are drowning in blood Material world has awaken and touched spiritual cosmos inside War, endless war, where the soul smothers the flesh Where all the creation ruins creator, war, endless war The clocks of my heart counts down the remained days The beginning is gone to the unseen fars to meet the death without regrets To knock at the door yet not to stay, just to look back and simple to the gods Then to return to the coldness of cosmos Now live in the flame of everydays suffering is it the punishment Solitude and the seeds of revelation it's my Weltanschauung
Hailed Be The Heroes
Once in Ukraine the cannons where roaring True heroes knew how to rule With swords they conquered freedom and glory The glory washed in the rivers of the blood Once in Khortitza they were building stronghold Sich Defended our land and gave their lives for it Upon the Aryan honor and enemies' bones We shall lead the true way to the glorious ?iriy? Valhalla Pure heart filled with Aryan blood Let it beat and let heroic archetypes arise The spirit yearning to battle Forever be with you In your purest blood It's in your family It's in your fatherland It's still alive And shall shine again in the native Ukraine Raise your swords the way up high to hail the sun It's death or victory These are two ways that lie before our choice White race would be the highest goal The warriors of Galychina Is an ?avaging? blade in strong Slavonic hands You were stoped one step before the victory Now it's our turn to realize your dreams Betrayal stood upon your way Red butchers destroyed our land And now Jewisk pest dominates Brother hold your weapons firm
The New Era Of Swords
The song that sings as the wind as storm It hurts the soul, it takes my heart away Was our lands given up surrendered to the foe Was our kin exterminated extirpated Our noble ancestors lived by the laws of the gods Is the true faith of fathers now forgotten But I do believe the new era of swords shall arise While we suffer our enemies would laugh By blood, by honour, by revenge, by force I swear we shall put an end to it The clang of breaking chains is the new era of swords Z.O.G. rules among the nations The world is full of falsity and lies, they buy all the world That do belong to higher race, they march across the lands That do belong to us, they preach eternal peace But they prepare for war, for war without honour For war without rules Where honest swords do not sing their song But stabs in back are welcomed more Our race has risen up towards the sky Has reached the very depth of seas But no one cares about it anymore For the degenerates took laurels and rule Gods fathers wake up from your sleep Now we shall sharpen our old and rusted swords No matter if we'll die in the flames of fight We shall not surrenders our fatherlands But I do believe new era of the swords shall rise The deeds of fathers still live in our veins By blood, by honour By revenge, by force I swear our kin shall not die The clang of breaking chains is the new era of swords The Knots Upon The Thread Of Fate A groan of dark wood throughout my daring soul Rides like a wild hunt and falls like mountain stream of thoughts A gloom that stole the soil emorisoned buried land inside itself Strangled in embrace of dusk without fresher gulp of life Its palms upon the tremor of the rind without a vile call of weakness and pain The better taste of blood and chill of death, the proud songs of wind Branches the lands of dead they seize its lead with fears Deah is not dreadful while you are young Or when being old you want to pass away Still his lands reak out for the stars searching for the Thread of Skjuld Be you the winged one your fate is not to for rot in grave But he spits poison afraid of his own shadow Sign of Enuy is a true stigma of egoism Always drunk of false optimism Death and vice its lesson it missed A call of madness a heap of misunderstandings Its morals and principle are left to rot in dirt One gathers mud he's living fast Smashing hands to blood from the senceless spite One stakes himself and throws a coin While staring at the gun one looks into her eyes One finds defence beneath worm's ominous star He feeds its blood to parasite poisoned buried in the dust of time And wind still howls against this silence he steals the weerings from the ancient woods When Lady Sorrow kiss the graveyards, she feeds the burial beast with the wine of blood And the devil still laughs and hisses greedy breaks his fangs in the malicious grins Replacing with daydreams the likeness of life for creature that feeds upon the lifes While someone is fighting the other is just spitting there are also the ones laughing at them both One losts himself in the search for passion another one shall bury his love in crypts of inmost fears Death with a Scythe would banish hope rip open a rotten soul with storms A desert demon shall die by drops of rain and feed the lost soul with its poisoned blood
The Taste Of Victory
Fields are covered with white snows woods are dreaming dreams of soil Time in slumber 'til Spring falls in white and red the earth lies frozen Forced whites in time of white clotted with the scarlet blood Echoed with the pain so dark with grey sorrow was entwined Yee an Aryan soldier we know your feats of arms Sleep safe in palace of cold forest snows no matter who where right and wrong Let the gods see the truth and judge them all, all those who died in nineteen forty five All those who won and who have lost the war For sacrifices made to the wrong gods for power given up to our worst foes Hail soldier hold your banner high time has come to sacrifice your life Though it's your brother stands on other side still it's time to fullfill the orders to kill The beast thirsts for Aryan blood squeezing down his greedy claws With a stolen power he forces brothers to whet against each other By slyness the blood has been spilled pride has been forgotten and defamed But the memory still lives in our hearts with an echo of vengeance shall the insults reply What incited Germans to go against slavs who made Russia to rot Ukraine Who sucked power from the world like a vampire who feels himself a master today We remember your feat a soldier of white race no matter either you were German or Slav Ghosts of war stand before our eyes so we shall not repeat the old mistakes again We do remember our forefather's oaths we do believe in power of 14 words Towers have fallen but the persons do stand firm and the Mason's pyramides do stare into our souls The taste of victory is bitterness and sarcasm It's price was Shekel and their scourge upon our trampled backs Oh world beware new master this desert breed won't die on their own If they weren't burnt those 60 years ago they should be burnt today Fields are covered with white snows woods are dreaming dreams of soil Time in slumber 'til spring falls In white and red the earth lies frozen suffused with blood of red Our memory dreams in sleeping lands What should lead your future ways and what do I await today
NOCTURNAL MORTUM
(Baltazzarr
@ 16.09.2005 20:34)
текста Weltanschauung
(aryan_spirit
@ 24.09.2005 17:46)