- 歌词
- 专辑列表
Isembard's Wheel
-
The Cliffs
Oh barons and lords,
your kingdom will fall,
These waters will rise,
and unseat your throne.
Old stories will wake,
in long-standing stones.
Oh barons and lords,
your kingdom will fall.
Now masters be fearful,
-Chains of the land, you have surely made your mark-
and hold your tongue.
-and the sun disappears sure as axe's arc,-
These shores yet resound,
-the frost of the night will the grass bedew,-
to old legends sung,
-still we will stay true.-
and death is no hindrance,
-Far below the headlands rest,-
to righters of wrong.
-steadying our feet.-
Oh masters be fearful,
-A solitary heart, beats a rhythm in the dark,-
and hold your tongue.
-and we shall rise to answer.-
For legends begun,
-A whisper of a myth, ringing up and down the cliffs,-
are unfolding still.
-is the sign of the time when our chains will lift.-
+ Neowle næssas, +
For blood lines the clay,
-The cost of the fight will to us be due,-
beneath every hill.
-but still we will stay true.-
+ stéap stanhleoþu,+
Though our means and our freedoms,
-Far below the headlands rest,-
won't furnish your fill,
-steadying our feet.-
+ uncúð gelad, wyrd, +
this cold, sweeping sickle,
-A solitary heart, beats a rhythm in the dark,-
of death surely will.
- our hearts will rise to answer.-
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+ cnyssaþ þas cleofa. +
+ Neowle næssas, +
+ stéap stanhleoþu, +
+ uncúð gelad, wyrd, +
+ cnyssaþ þas cleofa. +
Oh barons and lords,
-Chains of the land, you have surely made your mark-
your kingdom will fall,
-and the sun disappears sure as axe's arc,-
These waters will rise,
-the frost of the night will the grass bedew,-
and unseat your throne.
-still we will stay true.-
Old stories will wake,
-Far below the headlands rest,-
in long-standing stones.
-steadying our feet.-
Oh barons and lords,
-A solitary heart, beats a rhythm in the dark,-
your kingdom will fall.
-and we shall rise to answer.-
Now masters be fearful,
-A whisper of a myth, ringing up and down the cliffs,-
and hold your tongue.
-is the sign of the time when our chains will lift.-
These shores yet resound,
-The cost of the fight will to us be due,-
to old legends sung,
-but still we will stay true.-
and death is no hindrance,
-Far below the headlands rest,-
to righters of wrong.
-steadying our feet.-
Oh masters be fearful,
-A solitary heart, beats a rhythm in the dark,-
and hold your tongue.
-our hearts will rise to answer.-
For legends begun,
are unfolding still.
For blood lines the clay,
beneath every hill.
Though our means and our freedoms,
won't furnish your fill,
this cold, sweeping sickle,
of death surely will.
-
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