Ярость стигийская (Stygian Rage) from Ересиархи (Heresiarchs) by Путь (Pathway)
Tracklist
| 5. | Ярость стигийская (Stygian Rage) | 4:12 |
Lyrics
Evil herbs with burning leaves
Tore up armour, melted our bones;
Our spears made of oak and steel
As if wild braids
Chopped them off shearing the stems
Of eerie blossoms’ spicy flesh;
Poisonous sap of various kinds
Bubbled up from their mighty vines.
No, I am not destined to be of an old age,
Let me just take one breath, Rage.
Let the stone fist pave the way
And break the dirty bastard’s nose with a punch;
Let the weakling run away,
Away from the battle of fire with his bitter grudge.
For one moment, the centuries-old wrath
Has subsided in my chest;
Amidst the evil faces along the path
I saw the goddess before me, blessed.
And the sword has fallen through my now weak hands –
A wanderer’s heart calls for a warm hearth on cozy lands.
And over again
The booze in the glass is burning,
The blood boils, yearning,
The burdens of wandering oppresses and drags you down now and then.
My pain
And my rage, oh goddess,
Soothe and quiet it down I demand:
I will sleep peacefully under your hand
