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Return To Old Europe

by DRUNEMETON

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1.
The bonfires of the gods Are still burning In the autumn night The well of stars surface swirls The horseshoe In the cold night And neighing horses Ringing weapons And insane laughs Daughters of Artemis Ride through the woods The pale skin Shines in the night, The steel of the armor Glitters in the moonlight, Their eyes burn With sorcerous fire To The Palace Of Gods And Throne Of Stars Lies their path Where the Goddess Is married to the Lord With the Crown Of the Deer Horns The offerings are made, The words are pronounced The gates of antiquity Are open Mountains, forests and rivers Return their outlines As they were Centuries ago Salamander's laughter in the tongues of fire Light whispers of nymphs And river maidens In the waters of lakes And crowns of oaks Whose voices were strangled By the gray dogs Of the Vatican In the midst of a wild forest On top of a mountain, I contemplate the flight Of Artemis Horsewomen To the Celestial Palace Of stellar Dust To The Palace Of Gods And Throne Of Stars Lies their path Where the Goddess Is married to the Lord With the Crown Of the Deer Horns
2.
Screams of crows' flocks joyfully Greet the night of the spirits When the rainy weather turns Into cold autumn twilight The black-winged flocks of Morrigan Black color of mourning The Plumage of Death The crows circling Over the fallen soldiers And bodies of random travelers In the rocky gorges And boggy swamps The equestriennes Of the Black Crow Goddess Ride in the sky With howls and yells Of jubilant madness The Holy Morrigan Her hair is like a black wing With graying part of wisdom Cold murderous frenzy beauty And mesmerizing reverence She sows rains and fogs Over the land of Galatia From which fire and bloody rain Falls on the heads of the enemies Long gray days Without rays of sun Scorching foliage, Dreary swamps And inhospitable mountains The blurred fogs rise Above the dank lowlands Weathering stone circles On the hills And dark lumps Of megaliths The old demons of the sea Hide in the cracks of the rocks, Strange dark shapes Light the fires at night Blood is pouring out On the old chipped altars Druid's bloody visions In a unified prophetic ecstasy With the magnificent Morrigan
3.
Rain falls On the cold autumn ground From heavy gray clouds The earth gratefully accepts this offering High in the mountains, A murmuring brook begins, Which runs down the slope And gives rise To cold lakes and rivers The earth is covered With a scattering Of moonstones In droplets of night dew Witches wash their bodies In lake waters Preparing for a night wedding With the Lord of the Forests, Which comes out of the thicket, With a wolves retinue In the dance of star fires, The daughters of the old faith Are entwined in ecstasy With the Lord The vibes of pleasure Are mixed with the wolves' howling And night birds singing Are carried up, to the misty skies To the eye of the cold moon Framed by the radiance of distant planets Lined up at night in a sorcery sequence Pulsation of night air And trembling dew Waves of ecstasy Flow along with the cold streams of rivers and lakes, Where they flow into the seas Together with the breath of noble trees And the heady scent of witch herbs Where reality turns to the sorcery side Where the viscous fog Turns into purple twilight The shroud of daylight is dropped from the outlines Of the Carpathians, Appearing in its true greatness From the cracks of rocks and mountainous caverns Сomes the breath of the other world Its icy freshness draws signs in fog patterns Of the spire and gate Of the old fortress of primordial feelings Where the flower of witchcraft is still Revealed by pagan fire And the heat spreads through veins Visions in a scarlet haze Of a witch's brew, In the breath of the majestic Carpathia! Moon track trail Of flying witches procession Following the distant mystical horizon
4.
Over the ice pass On the crystal steps, Lost in the clouds Where the sons of the thunder spirits Rush up in the sky And the shining chariot Leaves the fog, Announcing the beginning of a new day Breathe in a deep breath The immortal spirit Of mighty mountains And frosty skies Where From the far peaks Leads a rainbow bridge To the Halls of the High One And from high steep Down the stairs, Lower and lower, Into the halls of the dark alves Where lies the mighty serpent On the pile of gold Where the hot steel pours And the blacksmith's bellows blows, So the swords are forged In the North And to freedom again, To the clatter of hoofs And the clang of arms, The whistle of arrows Crimson sunset paints mountains, Forests and steppes Cut out runes' patterns On the faces of the hills Smoke bursts out Of the Helheim gates, Hollowed out in a crack of the mountains Bringing the voices of dead souls, The night is their time to speak The black equestrienne Rides across the sky Scattering handfuls of stars Night dew renews the earth, Washing away Rye honey of battles
5.
The chariot of the sun Passes its way across the sky At the end of the day, Hiding in the realm Of the underworld The lunar mistress Comes on to the scene Together with the gray fears Of the night, Guarding the peace Of the Great Lord of Silence In the depths of forests Bone riders gallop On the nicks of cold winds Over valleys, forests, Rivers and mountains In the land of nocturnal iridescent music, The ancient legends and tales Of our precious heritage Come to life Cold snow on unsteady paths And the sweetness of fresh honey In the sun The icy voices of the ghosts' mounds And the heat of the spilled blood Night mysteries of burning bonfires Witching rites on the mounds Conversations with the otherworldly The spell voices of the dead And dances of the sunwheel On the tops of the hills The past with whitish eyes Looks at us From the swirling dancing fog Stories From the paths of the unconscious From cold voices of Nav' Into the sun warm of the day Cold of the night, Song of the wind Ringing of steel Whispering witches' hex On the edges of forest graveyards, Woven by a blood ornament On a black canvas of soil Our Slavic Heritage
6.
On the shores Washed by the cold northern seas Lies my path The roar of the waves And the sound of the surf The song of the cold wind Reaches a distant line Of dark forests The proud peaks Of snow-covered firs And century-old pines Where in the wooded mounds And ruins of ancient altars Dance the ghosts With icy eyes On the moss pathways Powdered by snow Lies my path Forest, unleash your ghosts! The whisper of oaks, Tales from other times Flickering ghostly eyes In the thickets of winter Swirling marsh lights Near the stones of force, Frozen in the marsh On the pathways Of distant villages Lies my path A plaintive moan Of a blizzard In the clapping of heavy shutters Heavily sigh The wraiths of winter Along the houses they wander And look through the windows Wind gusts blow them Into the night Fields of snow, so endless Mountains, so high Rivers, so mighty And crysral lakes Rays of sun With fresh breath Of morning winds Painted in a gray The pre-dawn twilight Reflection of sunlight in a snow Like the sparkle of precious stones The horizon of a spring being born Lights the blood of the hearts Along the cold shores And along mountain forest tracks I go to see again the harsh, But such a dear to my heart landscape - The Heart of Old Europe
7.

credits

released August 26, 2019

Grannus - vocals, instruments, songwriting
AR Mezhova - vocals (2,3,6)
Veteris - drums (session)

Cover artwork and design by AR Mezhova

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