Текст песни Grey Heaven Fall - The Lord Is Blissful In Grief

Славься, наш Господь, в таинстве погибели,
Смотри на смерть и горе сынов своих,
Коими наполнены могилы, и мать земля давно пожрала их...
Кто прожил жизнь под гнойным сиянием твоим
В поиске тебя, когда ты был средь них.
Мертвые поют тебе молчанием,
Они в твоих чертогах тьмы, блаженны и пусты,
В объятьях Бога, давшего им когда-то жизнь,
Чтоб видеть смерть, и смерть, что будут созерцать они...
Блажен Господь во скорби, в холоде усопших,
В нищете рассудка голодающих,
Господь, блаженный в боли, в мерзости блаженный,
Огнем презрения всепожирающий!

Грядет тот день, когда зловоние Господа
Наполнит опустевшие тела
Когда-то жаждущих Царства Божьего...

Те, кто жив, пропойте трижды в священной радости:
«Блажен Господь во скорби нашей и в смерти!»

В безграничной жажде слов объясняющих
Берега полюсов разнородных истерзаны,
Скрижали господни помазаны рвотою псов проказных
И свиньи жаждут припасть к силуэтам крестов.

Отче! Твои скрижали рухнули...

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1. The Lord is Blissful in Grief

Famed be our God in the sacrament of perdition!
Behold death and woe of your sons, who filled the graves
With themselves being devoured by Mother Earth...
Who wasted their lives under your purulent shine,
Blindly searching for you...Though you were amongst them
The dead sing their fame to you with silence
In your halls of darkness. They are so blissful and empty
In the embrace of God given life to them.
So they could see death... And death they will behold;
Blissful be our God in grief and cold of the dead,
In beggar minds of striving ones,
God is blissful in pain,
Blissful in filth,
Omnivorous with your flame of scorn!

One day the stench of God
Will fill the empty bodies
Of craving after Heaven…

You, who are still alive, sing thrice in your holy rapture -
Blissful be God in our grief and death!

Shores and poles are mutilated
In endless thirst for clarifying words;
God's tablets are spread with the vomit of leprous dogs;
And pigs are longing for pressing themselves to crosses.

Our Father! Your tablets are ruined!

Glory, our Lord, in the sacrament of death,
Look at the death and grief of your sons,
The graves are filled with which, and mother Earth devoured them for a long time ...
Who lived life under your purulent radiance
In the search for you when you were among them.
The dead sing you in silence
They are in your habits of darkness, blessed and empty,
In the arms of God, who once gave him life,
To see death, and death that they will contemplate ...
Blessed is the Lord in sorrow, in the cold of the deceased,
In the poverty of the mind of starving,
The Lord, blessed in pain, blessed into abomination,
The contempt is all -devouring!

The day is coming
Fill empty bodies
Once thirsty the kingdom of God ...

Those who are alive, sample three times in sacred joy:
"Blessed is the Lord at our sorrow and in death!"

In the boundless thirst for words explaining
The shores of the poles of the heterogeneous are tormented,
The tablets of the Lord are anointed by the vomit of the dogs
And pigs are eager to fall to the silhouettes of crosses.

Father! Your tablets collapsed ...

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1. The Lord is Blissful in Grief

Famed Be Our God
Behold Death and Woe of Your Sons, Who Filled the Graves
With Themselves Being Devoured by Mother Earth ...
Whasted Their Lives Under Your Purulent Shine,
BLINDLY Searching for You ... Throwh You Were amongst them
The Dead Sing Their Fame to You with Silence
In your Halls of Darkness. They Are So Blissful and Empty
In the Embrace of God Given Life to them.
So They Couped See Death ... and Death They Will Behold;
Blissful Be Oour God in Grief and Cold of the Dead,
In Beggar Minds of Striving One,
God is Blissful in Pain,
Blissful in Filth,
Omnivorous with your Flame of Scorn!

One Day The Stench of God
Will Fill the Empty Bodies
Of Craving after Heaven ...

You, Who are Still Alive, Sing Thrice in Your Holy Rapture -
Blissful be God in OUR GREEF and Death!

Shores and Poles are mutilated
In Endless Thirst for Clarifying Words;
God's Tablets are Spread with the vomit of Leprous Dogs;
And Pigs Are Longing for Pressing Themselves to Crosses.

OUR Father! YOUR Tablets are ruined!