|
NAZGUL LYRICS
"Awaiting the Battle Ravens" (2003 Demo)
1. At The Gates Of Samhain Night (intro)
2. Land Of My Ancestors
3. Born In Unbaptised Forest
4. Awaiting The Battle Ravens
5. Keltiberian Werewolf Warriors
6. Wrath Of Taranis
1. At The Gates Of Samhain Night (intro)
2. Land Of My Ancestors
Gazing up to the sky, I see the darkness chasing away
The Sun which once stood high, until not even
a glow is left of day...
A dark cloud covers the sky above,
not a star in sight.
This is the land of my Ancestors
Land I will defend until my last breath
Land of the folk and the lore
Land of the Race
Of Dolmens and traditions
As the evening rain falls down upon the sleeping Earth,
the voice of nature calls me to the place of my rebirth...
Because this is the land of my Ancestors Land of Pride and war
Land of history History spoken by the stones
The land of my Ancestors Land of plains, mountains and lakes.
Around the land flows a dense mist, a tree in sight, I have not found,
the unknown beyond, one cannot resist,
once the song of battle has sound...
What lies ahead remains unknown,
my sword pulls me,
this blurry path is still not shown,
yet I progress further knowing
I am on my fated course...
This is the land of my Ancestors And of those who died defending it
Land of my Parents Land of Pride and war
Land of history
Where we shall again triumph.
3. Born In Unbaptised Forest
Night arrives to the deepest of the forest
Where shadows dance under the moon
Ravens fly in dark places and forgotten rivers born in frost mountains
Arcane thrones of the Old Gods that ruled this lands
I remember when the men of the cross arrived to this place
On those cold days of winter
With their axes they chopped our sacred forests
And burned our wise men
They destroyed our sacred temples of stone
And built churches for their foreign god
On those cold days of winter...
I was a child...
But now I am a Warrior
Who was born in unbaptised forests
Wrath guides our souls to the battles
And in profane rituals
Under the rune of the werewolf
we summon the old spirits of our land
banished to darkness by the priests of light.
As I walk I see immense valleys before me
Immerse on perpetual mist
With hillsides full of tall trees
Home of the Battleraven
Who seeks for the souls of the brave ones fallen in battle
Old totemic symbols resist the past of time
In the forests where I was born...
In the Barbarian South of the Pagan Lands.
4. Awaiting The Battle Ravens
I remember
When the horns of war ralled the brave to battle
I remember
The times when honor ruled our souls and loyalty was the only law
The young men looked for the secret of steel
By the paths of war
Riding towards the foreign lands searching for the spoils of war
With the banners fluttering with the wind
And the symbols of our clan.
The glory dreamed came through battle and our legends were told
By the minstrels at the light of the bonfires
As with the horns full of wine
The warriors rest
Listening to the heroes' deeds.
I remember
When the druids hailed the sun for the solstice dawn
And how in Beltaine's Night the old wicker man burned
As same as every year in the forests and cliffs...
Honouring the Pagan Gods of my Race.
Time has passed and now I await, old and wounded, the call of Neton
Black ravens fly across the sky with the vultures,
they come to take my soul
With the sword in my hand I say goodbye to this land
Land of my parents and forefathers
With pride I watch the forests and plains of Iberia,
where I lived and died.
From the sky I now see my lifeless body
I see through the eyes of the Battleraven,
Messenger of the Gods of the warriors,
Who guides me towards his hall in the high of the sky
Towards the home of the braves...
Where rest the warriors of my folk.
HAIL IBERIA
5. Keltiberian Werewolf Warriors
The wind blows on the cold winter nights as snow falls
In distant forests where time stands still
High grow the sacred trees
Where the spirits of the damned fauna dwell
Pale the full moon spreads her light
Leading the children of the shadows
Those who were banished to the darkness of the night
With the arrival of the stranger's cross
Under a circle of sacred stones
The elder spokes the name of the beast
That in arcane ages guided and possessed the warriors souls
Making them fierce on battle
Spirit of the great grey shadow
Who made of the forest your keep
And of the mountain your kingdom
You were god for the pagans
And devil for the Christians
who under their churches' light celebrate your death
they, the children of the god-man
Now under the winter full moon of samhain
The pagans call upon thee
Runes are carved in our swords
and shields as before
Your spirit will live in our hearts,
your eyes will be our eyes
This is the night of revenge
When blood will be drank in forbidden rituals
Snow falls upon our faces on this November night
As the full moon guides the
souls of the Iberian Werewolf Warriors
6. Wrath Of Taranis
|
|
