Bezhviezdna obloha from Krásno by Besna

Ustatý tvorstva pán, bieda na priveľkom stole
Ustlal si z perutí labutí v kamennom hrobe
Nezmerná samota mámi ho z útesu skočiť
Z posledných síl si ohorkom kostí vykľaje oči

Zrazený v kolená, opadol ošiaľ
Stratené stádo, spálený košiar
Rieka splaškov a krvi do každého z morí
Len supi prežijú nad lesom mohýl

Prométeus! Tvoj údel, náš ortieľ
Hrobárom nespočtu nádherných foriem

Zrazený v kolená, opadol ošiaľ
Stratené stádo, spálený košiar
Rieka splaškov a krvi do každého z morí
Len supi prežijú nad lesom mohýl

Bezhviezdna obloha dómom na kostnici ľudstva
A s posledným tónom zrodí sa niečo krásne
Čo trúchliaci poeta spísal by v básne
No nik už tu nebude, nik z nás už tu nebude

Prométeus! Tvoj údel, náš ortieľ
Stal som sa hrobárom nespočtu nádherných foriem
Táto noc stane sa očistou falošným istotám
Delírium na sklonku života

A s posledným tónom zrodí sa niečo krásne
No nik už tu nebude, nik z nás už tu nebude

Hrobárom nespočtu nádherných foriem
No nik už tu nebude, nik z nás už tu nebude

Ustatý tvorstva pán, bieda na priveľkom stole
Ustlal si z perutí labutí v kamennom hrobe

---ENG---

Weary the master of creation, misery on too large a table
Laid down on swan feathers in his stone grave
Immeasurable loneliness lures him to step off a cliff
With the last of his strength, he gouges out his eyes with a stub of a bone

Knocked to his knees, the frenzy subsided
The lost flock, the burnt fold
A river of filth and blood into each of the seas
Only the vultures thrive over the forest of tombs

Prometheus! Your fate, our verdict
Mortician of the endless forms most beautiful

Knocked to his knees, the frenzy subsided
The lost flock, the burnt fold
A river of filth and blood into each of the seas
Only the vultures thrive over the forest of tombs

Starless sky - a dome over humanity's ossuary
And with the last tone, something beautiful is born
That which a mourning poet would write in a poem
But no one will be around no more, none will be around no more

Prometheus! Your fate, our verdict
I have become the mortician of the endless forms most beautiful
This night will be a purification of false certainties
Delirium at the end of life

And with the last tone, something beautiful is born
But no one will be around no more, none will be around no more

Mortician of the endless forms most beautiful
But no one will be around no more, none will be around no more

Weary the master of creation, misery on too large a table
Laid down on swan feathers in his stone grave

• Black Metal
• Metal
• Post Black Metal
• post-metal
• post-rock
• progressive metal
• Bratislava