Blackthorn
immortelle for a hollow grave
The cold voice of the tempest,
It makes me run away
Theres something bittersweet
And true in the air this day
At long last I can whirl round
With fallen xanthic leaves
Unite with birds of passage and fly above the trees
(The) stories that must flash out
With a pulsing aorta of (the) sky
And then must turn to ashes
I kiss them all goodbye
The rotten lips taste divine,
Cant explain to you why
The last pain pierces my heart
I laugh and deeply cry
And stunning is the black-eyed thicket
And the swamped grass,
Not a human, not a god yet,
Come, veni foras!
And stunning is the black-eyed thicket
And the swamped grass,
Not a human, not a god,
Mother, veni foras
- :
- Witch Cult Ternion
- Push & Pull
- Gossamer Witchcraft
- First Light
- 25 Irish Republican Songs
- The Prologue of Eschaton
- Codex Archaos
- Here We Go Again
- Irish Moments
- Drinking Whiskey Before Breakfast - 40 Famous Irish Ballads
- The Essential Collection of Beautiful Irish Ballads
- The Very Best of Irish Pub Songs
- 101 Beautiful Irish Ballads
- Essential Irish Pub Songs Collection
- Irish Ballads
- Irish Pride
- Blackthorn
- Paddy Lie Back, Kitty Lie Over
- Das Beste der Irischen Kneipenlieder
- Il Molto Migliore delle Canzoni Irlandese da Pub