1. |
Les Voix du Sang
05:32
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Dans la débandade et les fièvres de l'amertume,
parcourant ces confins du monde
que nul plan de la Genèse n'avait prévus,
que Dieu ignore et que les démons évitent,
la pensée en deuil, au souvenir d'autres espaces,
dresse les échafauds des espoirs,
et tout ce qui est fleur dans les coeurs
accroche ses rêves aux gibets.
Sur la terre je traîne ma carcasse,
Sur la terre je demeurerai.
Puisse le ciel s'embraser et ses flammes
venir pourlécher le crâne des hommes !
Pas la quiétude des voûtes, pas d'ensorcellements sereins,
Pas de sourires fadasses au clair de lune !
Mais la tempête des astres en folie
greffée sur les figures tragiques de la pensée !
Je n'ai pas de larmes à répandre
sur des croix et des collines,
pas de goût pour les résurrections éphémères.
Pas de larmes à répandre
sur des croix et des collines...
Sur la terre je traîne ma carcasse,
Sur la terre je demeurerai.
Je veux au contraire, dans la tourmente du monde,
être accoucheur de musique
et verser les voix du sang
dans le naufrage sonore de l'espace.
Pas la quiétude des voûtes, pas d'ensorcellements sereins,
Sur la terre je traîne ma carcasse,
Sur la terre je demeurerai.
Librement adapté d'E.M. Cioran
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2. |
Tribus
04:20
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Tribus égarées
Leurs larmes inondent le pavé
Leurs jambes chancelent
Mais se mouvent encore
Tribus implorantes
Qui ne viennent de nulle part
Et marchent, intrépides,
Sur les plaines vitrifiées
Une jeune fille pendue
Au détour d'un chemin...
La mort se plaît à l'ombre de ses boucles...
D'immenses torches de brume voilent l'horizon
Les tours de guet se dressent et répandent leurs éclairs
Éclatantes gerbes cosmiques
Planant sur les tribus fanatiques
Des flammes bleutées magnétisent les hordes,
Ultime métamorphose de leurs volontés corrompues...
Priant toujours,
Ivres et chancelantes,
Elles se livrent sans retenue
Aux rayons électrisés
Écrasées, leurs consciences
Brûlées jusqu'à la poussière...
Tribus égarées
Leurs larmes inondent le pavé
Leurs jambes chancelent
Mais se mouvent encore
Déchiquetées,
Leurs ailes flambent
Et montent vers l'azur
En brandons éparpillés
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3. |
Time Tombs
06:34
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No corpses in the time-tombs,
No dusty skeletons...
No corpses in the time-tombs,
Metallic codes of memory tapes...
Cyber-architectonic ghosts haunted them,
Three-dimensional molecular transcriptions
Of their living originals.
Stored among the dunes
In the hope that one day
Physical recreation of coded personalities
Would be possible.
Ten millennia burial ground :
(The Sea of Vergil)
Five thousand years waiting
An act of faith
Dead souls embalmed...
In their antique limbo.
The air began to vibrate,
Succession of vivid colours
Rippled across the surface.
Three-dimensional image,
Brilliant electric blue robe...
A composed and watchful face... appears...
We would wander among the gutted time-tombs
Listening to them splutter faintly in the dying light
As they recreated their fading personas
Deep crystal vaults flaring briefly... like giant goblets...
Cyber-architectonic ghosts haunted them,
Three-dimensional molecular transcriptions
Of their living originals.
Stored among the dunes
In the hope that one day
Physical recreation of coded personalities
Would be possible.
Ten millennia burial ground :
(The Sea of Vergil)
Five thousand years waiting
An act of faith
Dead souls embalmed...
In their antique limbo.
In these gardens of delusion
Melodies are the only things... left...
"Orion"
Like dry sticks breaking, an ancient voice crackled :
"Orion, Betelgeuse, Altair !
What twice-born star shall be my heir,
Doomed again
to be this scion - "
Librement adapté de J.G. Ballard
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4. |
Myste
04:09
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Purifié dans les eaux de la mer,
Après le jeûne rituel,
Je reçois le Kykéôn
Pour communier avec la Déesse.
J'entre dans la grotte sacrée,
Recouvert d'un voile
Qui m'isole du monde profane,
Je marche sur la peau de bélier,
Korè tourne autour de moi
Avec ses torches allumées.
Ma souillure est consumée...
J'avance dans la cour du temple,
Les mains attachées,
Les yeux bandés,
Obscurité complète...
Je tâtonne dans les ténèbres...
Korè verse le contenu de la coupe
sur mon corps,
Et marque mon front.
Mon regard se perd dans la flamme qui brûle
sur l'autel...
Visions de formes apocalyptiques
et hideuses...
Je tâtonne dans les ténèbres...
Je me livre au trépas
Dans les entrailles de la Terre-Mère
Pour renaître à l'image du cosmos.
Necro C., octobre 2019
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5. |
The Bastards of the Sea
03:28
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The burning thirst for conquest is leading me astray
The sea is turning crimson, under a sky of grey
Have no fear of carnage, man your battlestations
The last thing they will hear will be the sounds of our cannons
Fire ! Fire ! Show no mercy, sink them to the depths
Take everything they own until there's nothing left
Fire ! Fire ! Show no pity, slash, hack and maim
Leave just one man behind so he tells them what's our name
He'll tell the tale of brave men
Cruel, fierce and free
Sinking down their man o' war
Bastards of the sea
The bastards of the sea
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6. |
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Going down the mountain, into the ancient deep
Guided by a monster, a certain kind of creep
It's not the prettiest sight, some call it a curse
This thing in black and white, controls the universe
Its jaws are made of metal, his hindlegs are of steel
In front of this foul creature I know that you will kneel
A shiny spark of madness illuminates the dark
Know your life is forfeit, enslaved to his bark
Dog of War !
Climbing up the mountain to reach the sacred sky
Riding on its back, the fire in my eye
One hand on his leash and the other on my ax
We will ride eternal, when the dog of war attacks
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7. |
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Welcome to my festivities
I'll be your host and king, enter as you please
You're standing here in my humble home
We serve the food at six but feel free to roam
Let's enjoy together this hard earned meal
You will taste delicacies while I'm sitting on my throne
Pies infused with death, meat full of disease
The lingering taste of plague, tainting the wheel of cheese
Please have a cup of wine, it's not as old as me
Feel free to take your time, you're here for eternity
It's been so long since I've tasted something fresh
I miss the smell of grass, the sunlight on my flesh
My task is significant, I think I've come to terms
I am life eternal, I am the king of worms
The king of worms
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8. |
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Night after night , day after day
My twisted body is rotting away
Consuming the soil, burning the forests
Eating the souls of those wanting to rest
I live off your sick when you bathe in my meat
My tainted hand is reaching out for your guilt
Open your mouth, swallow my brew
And let your dignity slide out of you
I am eternal
When my hand's on your throat, my friend, your are toast
Watch yourself slowly turn into compost
I am infernal
When my hand's on your throat, my friend, your are toast
Entrust me with what you value the most
Covered in false pretenses, my beauty is a trick
Give my lies a lick and spare no expense
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Les Acteurs de L'Ombre Productions France
LES ACTEURS DE L’OMBRE PRODUCTIONS is an association bringing passionate people together, all volunteers. Our vocation? Presenting bands we love, usually coming from nowhere!
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