Somnium Obmutum Lyrics Album by Estatic Fear
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1. Des Nachtens suss’ Gedone (Instrumental with Lute)
2. Somnium Obmutum
Numquam orem dulcem obliviscor de ea somniare non cassavi.
Sed quod pulchrior et desiderandios illa somnia sunt, ea major tristia mea cum expergiscor.
Tamen desiderio noctes illam dulces sed dolorosas, ut regno somnii amorem meum osculis teneris tegere et suum capillium aureum permulcere.
Conamen meae mentis spem reperire interiret per scientia oprimeta.
Devoratus per somnium obmutitum, lugem plenus desiderio.
As the lorn nightingales melodious pain, dies away through the dusk-impregnated air a sweet, forgiving silence, delivers me from daily despair.
Dreams of sweetest emotion touch my heart and smother my daily surpressed cries, while avision of beauty, pure and dear inspires me with a glimpse of paradise.
Wandering like a vagabond, expelled from the joys of men. Barred from the pleasure of company I solitary roam the night.
How should I ever summon my courage, when the bitter gale of failure dominates my heart? How should I ever enjoy the glare of the morning, when with the fading of the shadows shelter departs?
As the moon kisses the sea and casts its glitter on the water and majestically silence engulfes the lands, a dream woven of bitterness, joy and desire stealthfully embraces my solitary heart.
Horis lucis simplex
crescere, et somniator.
Repudiatur nam sensus
ab simplice redeor.
Through skies of charming beauty, up to the stars divine, my mind lifts up enchanted, casts of all earthly chains. Subdued by night’s sensation, engulfed by sweet temptation I kiss the seals of slumber and let my spirit dream.
Doubtful thoughts pull back my heart. The flame of delight chases to burn.
For every smile shall wither, the hopeful laughter fade, the cup of joy’s illusions bashed from the craving lips. And as all hopes are shattered, the last of passions scattered, the gale of bitter failure is all that shall remain.
Cursed be my creator and the spark of existence, so unvoluntary bestowed. Come forth spirits of my solitary past, emotions of havok and destruction be unleashed.
I wonder if I ever could regain the virtues I have cast off long ago.
I wonder if my eyes will ever catch a token of the sympathy I still crave.
And all emotion of my former days dilute. For I shall learn how to live with the truth. Soon I shall strip off the boundaries of hope.
For a caring soul.
Der flüchtig Vergnügungen müde, der Tag voller qualvollem Frust.
Wann mag der einst wohlvertraut Friede, endlich wieder erfüllen die Brust.
Und als der güldnen Sterne Glanz verging
und des Morgens Rot am Himmel hing
da ward des Nachtens Freud und Glück zerstoben
ein neuer jammervoller Tag erhoben.
Wohin verflogen der Stunden Zeit
wohin des Nachts verhüllend Barmherzigkeit.
So flieht mein Sinn dem Himmel bleich
in Trübsinn schwer an Kummer reich.
3. As Autumn Calls
4. Ode to Solitude
Wandering restless through the hillside on a cold December day,
my solitary journey guided only by the pilgrims high in the sky.
Fog invades the lands blocking the last rays of the dying sun
and a veil of mist and serenity gracefully covers the night.
The shadowy trees of the forest,
once imbued with beauty and life
now twisted and eternally frozen
by a shroud of snow and ice.
As the glow of the dawning sun vanishes in the witherd sky
my eyes wander up through the whispering winds and watch the glare of the stars dilute.
Exposed to the frost of the icy winds my bittered soul still rejoys.
As the howl of the wind enchants me more than the sweetest sounding human voice.
Freed from men’s insanity I feel my grief stricken heart still burn
bracing my soul through night’s loneliness I sense a glimpse of shelter return.
Burdend with the insight of my loneliness I continue my journey through this night.
Passed have the times when the glimmer of hope filled my soul with gentle delight.
All the years that the currents of fortune have planted the seeds of my grief
my eyes have been fooled by the masks of joy, my desperate hopes deceived.
So let us now gather the harvest of the past solitary days.
And bath our peace craving eyes in sin’s magnificent grace.
The night shall pass and a cold morning breeze shall obscure the traces of my pittyful existence.
For not a stone shall mark the place where silence embraced me and guided my cheerful soul into the charm of everlasting solitude.