Solvitur Ad Elfmuth (Ante Bellum)

Nazgul

    Continúa después del anuncio

    Extremos orcos scriptos ab copiis
    Septentrionis Kazh-Ran
    Navigii parati erant ad solvendum
    Versus Ruid-Dor sinus Elfmuth
    Theatrum supremi certaminis designatum
    Blasphema caterva ad litus
    Ex collibus ubi appropinquant
    Naves bellicae soloturae
    Intus horum servi suos dominos
    Nigris armant
    Sanguine eorum loricis adversariorum
    Defendentibus eorum
    Aura corpora atra convoluta ac sagis
    Eorum signa ferentibus.
    Nave profecta ornata capitibus principum
    Princeps remigium tempus remorum
    Pulsu metitur nanorum
    Qui a Roze-El ducti
    Templum Eldril destruxerunt
    Arcanorum artium peritissimi
    Nunc cruore manant strigitu
    Mille scuticarum quae eorum
    Duram cutem lacerant.
    Et eorum dolor, aegritudo, sudori, sanguinis
    Permixtus lembum propellit
    I portum argentatum quo sol
    Iam lassus se conduit.
    Omnia parata ad proelio sunt... tympana
    Metiuntur magna itinera orcorum
    Ac hominum deformum pugnae aviditate
    Cupiditate sola contentionis
    Ordine procedunt sub caelo cinereo onusto odiis
    Sicut domini impiarum animarum

    [THEY SAIL TOWARDS ELFMUTH (BEFORE WAR)]

    Continúa después del anuncio

    When the last ogres were recruited
    By the troops of north Kazh-Ran
    The warships where readied to set towards Ruid-Dor,
    Heart of Elmuth, designated as the theatre of the last battle.
    A blasphemous horde, from the hills,
    Goes to the coast where the warship are ready.
    Inside, the servants
    Arm their lords with armours
    Now black for the blood of their enemies
    And protecting their bodies
    Wrapped by a black breeze
    And mantles bringing their insignia.
    Sailed the warships
    Adorned by the skulls
    Of the contrary princes
    The scout stresses the time of the row of the prisoners dwarfs
    Who destroyed Eldril's temple
    Master of mysterious arts,
    Who now are bleeding at the sound of thousand whips
    Which tear their skin and pain and suffering;
    The blood mixed with sweat pushes
    The ship towards a silver sea where a tired
    Sun plunged.
    Everything is ready for the battle
    The tympanums stress the forced march of ogres
    And trolls
    Eager for fighting just for pleasure.
    They parade under a grey sky
    Full of hatred like the Damned's Master.

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión