пряник
Auto-translated
Nargaroth – Autumn
The dying sun is sinking,
blood-red into a foggy sleep.
Regret stirs in the heart,
where once my failure struck me.
And my hands, now withered like paper,
burn in the heart-chilling flaw.
And old laughter that makes me shudder,
mocks me amidst all this woe.
And no scar remained nameless,
in the battle of vanity.
Bleeding out, we were left behind on the field
and lick the wounds of time.
The song of the Norns admonishes
of so much sleeping once-upon-a-time.
The story of love breaks apart,
no matter how serious you mean it.
The tears rest like young rain
on grass that will soon die.
Gently, moss nestles against weathered walls
of the hearts I never forgot...
Where did the longing for your skin remain?
It screams in my head alone.
So that it may happen to me alone,
with all its doubt and screaming.
The strange bed I fled to in the evening
was as cold as the one in the morning.
Once our hearts were united,
now withered, betrayed, and old.
I have so often lied for you too,
no matter with whom or where you slept.
A foreign breath still clings to your hair,
resembling the demon you flee from.
For a long time now we have not looked into each other's eyes,
because we stole too many kisses.
At night we carve our sins into our flesh,
which forever remind us of the torments.
Still we drunkenly climb thousands of castles,
which will soon be ruins.
But alas, not yet standing on stone battlements,
so that our dreams already die in the wind.
The dying sun is sinking,
blood-red into a foggy sleep.
Regret stirs in the heart,
where once my failure struck me.
And my hands, now withered like paper,
burn in the heart-chilling flaw.
And old laughter that makes me shudder,
mocks me amidst all this woe.
And no scar remained nameless,
in the battle of vanity.
Bleeding out, we were left behind on the field
and lick the wounds of time.
The song of the Norns admonishes
of so much sleeping once-upon-a-time.
The story of love breaks apart,
no matter how serious you mean it.
The tears rest like young rain
on grass that will soon die.
Gently, moss nestles against weathered walls
of the hearts I never forgot...
Where did the longing for your skin remain?
It screams in my head alone.
So that it may happen to me alone,
with all its doubt and screaming.
The strange bed I fled to in the evening
was as cold as the one in the morning.
Once our hearts were united,
now withered, betrayed, and old.
I have so often lied for you too,
no matter with whom or where you slept.
A foreign breath still clings to your hair,
resembling the demon you flee from.
For a long time now we have not looked into each other's eyes,
because we stole too many kisses.
At night we carve our sins into our flesh,
which forever remind us of the torments.
Still we drunkenly climb thousands of castles,
which will soon be ruins.
But alas, not yet standing on stone battlements,
so that our dreams already die in the wind.
