Альбом Arcturus

("No! this face is only a mask a wicked ornament,
Illuminated by an exquisite grimace,
Look and see, atrociously contoroled,
The real head, and the sincere face
Turned back under the shadow of the face which lies." -
Charles Baudelaire )

He is profanity in sancitity's guise
An alias assumed I do recognize
In their eyes , his cause -
when enticing and cunning in impact
is still a criminal and evil act.

So look for him vainly, He,
the incarnation of evil: And by
arrangements of magickal nature
He turns unrecognizable even to the
experienced eye.

You obsessively pursue him
Falling to see, that was why he came to be
one who annihilates with such impunity

He appears your friend, but
the Saint hides many Satans
He's contemptous, you know
of your Godgiven stupidities
He calls you in question which
affected modesty and create
of you an object of derision

You think him to be the pariah
whom company does exclude
But in the midst of all frenzy
He is - feasting in a transitory mood

Passion is strict lord
He is also its humble slave
When bereft of common ways,
He strides before you on water
He makes clowns of kings,
charms the guests, rides the ball -
Is the master of disguise

Prince of the thousandfold face -
the charming jester's smile
which invites reason to demise,
and imaginations rise
Inscrutable yes, venting his spleen
Somewhere night and day between
Is the master of disguise

I have everywhere sought,
and nowhere found
So I lift the bleedin' bodkin
And trust the grief deepest in

The gleaming bodies of the infinite skies
Have for my spirit
The cold charm
Of death's welcoming eyes
In secret to my soul
They are ideals of old

Await the coming storm, behold the sign in the sun
Chaos upon us spawn! The arrows of time pinpoints us all
Oh, well the maddening laughter growing louder with the memories
Atoms like incense rising, like a thousand candles all blown out at once
Fear tangled with despair, this ghastly symphony of malice breaks it
The spirit sails out on waters, an intergalactic sea of sorrow
Solemn oblivion with thee

Ways of darkness
The third eye reflects the images of vast reluctant pasts
Ethereal eternity awaits the final act
It crawls toward the altar, destined to collapse
Tragic legend, eerie stratum

Twisted, this mortal flesh evoked again, with echoes still haunting
The curses chanting
Embrace the outcast state of chaos - after all, it's unalterable
Beweep this thought, then arise with wisdom
Now when I hallow in the gateway of different plains
Open your heart and let go, oh vanish, divine infinity

Ah, this wraith I am, so many aeons ago since
Ah, I suffer eternally, the inevitable did unfold
Oh well, a collection of particles held together
By the force of a soul and its memory
Be warned (you stand) on the edge of infinity
Where coloured waves will lead the way into the void
Fear tangled with despair, this ghastly symphony of malice
Oh well, the maddening laughter growing louder with memories now
Atoms like incense thing

Ways of darkness
The third eye reflects the images of vast reluctant pasts
Ethereal eternity awaits the final act
You are drawn towards the altar destined to collapse
Tragic legend, eerie stratum

In between the arrows of time I suffer eternally

(based on the poem "Tragediens Trone" by John Henrik Svaren)
(is translated by the undersigned, and hereby dedicated to Kristoffer Garm Rygg)

Hear!
From this day forth
are the heights of Horeb broken
and the sea of sulphur-ice.

And blasphemy!
in heaven's chambers:
Souls had fled their halls
and closed was the book of life.
And behold!
The great, white throne:
black
with sacred blood

Our father -
Dead by his own hands:
an epitaph
worthy no king.

And so is everything
a nameless lie.
Who, my god,
am I?

Man knows me
as Lucifer, the serpent of old.
The wretched hold my banner high.
Your gift
- all life! -
I grant a grave
Yet I am not your death.

Come carry forth the crown
to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease
- but alas; I am crowned
in grief unheard of!

In this lone monarchy
- without a friend of foe -
I greet the mourning sun
with strife and a song:
Please speak my name!
And leave me not
in the dust of death.

I am weighed down
beneath the tragedy crown, -
nameless,
and alone,
a fatherless son.

(JHS 1996)

[Poem by Edgar Allan Poe]

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I lov'd alone
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lighting in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by -
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that look the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

(based on the poem "Tragediens Trone" by John Henrik Svaren)
(is translated by the undersigned, and hereby dedicated to Kristoffer Garm Rygg)

Hear!
From this day forth
are the heights of Horeb broken
and the sea of sulphur-ice.

And blasphemy!
in heaven's chambers:
Souls had fled their halls
and closed was the book of life.
And behold!
The great, white throne:
black
with sacred blood

Our father -
Dead by his own hands:
an epitaph
worthy no king.

And so is everything
a nameless lie.
Who, my god,
am I?

Man knows me
as Lucifer, the serpent of old.
The wretched hold my banner high.
Your gift
- all life! -
I grant a grave
Yet I am not your death.

Come carry forth the crown
to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease
- but alas; I am crowned
in grief unheard of!

In this lone monarchy
- without a friend of foe -
I greet the mourning sun
with strife and a song:
Please speak my name!
And leave me not
in the dust of death.

I am weighed down
beneath the tragedy crown, -
nameless,
and alone,
a fatherless son.

(JHS 1996)

It was a dark night, I couldn't see;
And senses were unbound in ESP

When in dream awake,
I'd paint,
Subconcious, the expanse I saw

The portal to the minds eye, open!
- I contemplated
Who it was that pulled the strings

O those things I saw in dreadful masquerade
Of stark madness went merry round with my head

I passed out, embraced their world
Savoured the poetry of revolt -
Sheer elegy of menace

I have not been the same since,
I took on the profession of a devil
The world I see in grotesque light
Evil perform with the gestures of a clown

Pure I live in blasphemy
Mephisto I am hidden in Madonnas gown
From the code of common sense I'm free
To(o) bad you're not here to partake my strange horror

'Cause here is where or weys will part
I will not exchange their power,
spring of my suffering
I do not envy the conscience pure
of the blind man in his bliss world
I would not be devoid the fruit of guile

"I know that without me God cannot live a moment;
If I am destroyed He must give up the ghost."
[Angelus Silesius]

I beseech you, God to whom many sinners pray
From the depth of the dark abyss where my heart fell
Expelled I was from your tedious grace to the pits of hell
So can you please cease to deplore my opposite, nay only way
For aeons I descended down
Till I saw the dreadful truth
of which man wouldn't know
I, degraded bearer of thy sacred light
- to which I never again will bow
When I rise to avenge myself with darkness
The anger of the damned shall flow

I was cast out by the retinue of angels weak
Shone to the few who me would seek

A rebel I was, radiant my glow, afar,
My wisdom fathomed by the morningstar

And O you fools, in herdlike fight, stampede
And when creation falls, you must build anew,
With nails that sting My hands - They grow passionate on a lie.
But You know the veracious one was I