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Nokturnal Mortum
To The Gates Of Blasphemous Fire
Style: Black Metal. Year: 1999. Playtime: 49:23

MUSICA Soundcheck:
Average score: 8.5 of 10
Votes: 1

True and Evil (18.03.2006 21:23:13)
Score: 8.5 of 10
Отличный блэковый альбом..."Рогатый Князь" решает))


1. Bestial Summoning
2. To The Gates Of Blashpemous Fire
3. On The Moonlight Path
4. The Hands Of Chaos
5. Under The Banners Of The Horned Knjaz
6. The 13th Asbath Celebration
7. Cheremosh
8. The Forgotten Ages Of Victories


Bestial Summoning

(music: Knjaz Varggoth/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The edge of continuity for dream and reality. Shaman is dancing his dance
of death; the masks of the demonssurrounding me. This is my wedding ritual
that gives the violence. The fog of the night, the dark run
through the expanse of light. The mysteries of civilizations that left the
Earth more of ten times return to me; it gives no repose to me again and
again. Standing in the forestand seeing the atricities...all is inside me,
and it comes back in the dreams. The shaman dances, the masks are waiting
for its demon. The knife is in my hand. The fog...will never crawl away. My
words are devoured by the bestial of silence and in invisible chains
shackle my moves. The dream continues it's gush to reality and the shaman
drums louder the rhytm to his dance of death.

To the Gates Of Blasphemous Fire

(music: Knjaz Varggoth/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The day is (always) going away and (the) night covers the children of
coldness and darkness by it's screen. The frozen flame (in) wrath tears the
letters... The thirst is free and the rivers of blood flow to the unknown.
Death opens it's gates and the victims fall down to its scarlet lake. The
ancient cults of blood that give the pleasure to the children of the
nightmares and cruel reality. The awesome castle stands where the flesh is
worth a life; the blood and the rage unleashed by the master of the night
inside. The star drops down its light through the gallow loop, as
nightflower grows in the appointed place. One who tasted its bitterness
will get immortality, and the master will dip him into the stormy waters of
blood and chaos. The moon drops down the tears of light weeping for the
great forests. Its gladness is expressed in these drops of silence and
paradoxical eminence. Ancient master! Give the power to the children of
nightmares and take their gifts. And they'll come to your gates (that are)
widely opened for them...power, eminence, immortality, blood, death and
chaos. The castle! The great castle! The shelter for the ones who eternally
search and find chaos. In it those who give the true history to the world
and take the stillness from it... We are on our road. The blood is flowing,
the heaven is on fire, we are awaited by the gates of
blasphemous fire!

On The Moonlight Path

(music: Knjaz Varggoth/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

Go away day, give everything to the queen of the night laying in the cold
land and waiting for the full-moon (to come). I see the leaving of life as
a sweet dream. My way is stretching into the abyss of eternity. I don't try
to hold for this life, it's damned by me, and the spirit of Carpathians
call my black soul to the moonlight path. The dawn - the dusk. The cycle is
over for me. The sun is twisted by the soars and it's painful for me to
look at it. Oh! My sweet queen of the night you gave me the sense of life
you gave me eternal pleasure. I acquired the true vampiric art. I'm on the
moonlight path. Hey stars! Greet me! Do you hear me...the moon! The
tombstones are singing to me and the throne of the damned belongs to death.
I celebrate the great joy together with the wolves. I dance inside the
circle of snakes and marsh of reptiles. I'm indifferent to everything
because I choose my path. Blood! I swallow it. It spreads inside of me like
bitterness and indifference in the world of true lies. I was runed and
humilated in a world where I've been insunderstood. Through my teeth I talk
about revenge. The world will remember my name. The moonlight path that
takes my soul. I'll take these useless souls one by one. Your temples will
burn like candles, the children and your women will moan with pain. Your
houses will hide in blood by which I'll wash my face playing with the
moonrays on my path; on my moonlight path. I scorn you sheep. I scorn your
flock. To be your shepherd is my fate. Bringing your souls for the
sacrifice to my God. I'll feed the wolves by your mortal bodies. Death and
chaos - all will be here, and nobody else will see the day and the sun
(again). Therefore, I'm on the moonlight path. Oh! World! I'll dance on
your grave.

The Hands Of Chaos

(music: Knjaz Varggoth, Saturious/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

To be the God - to be the Man, to be the power - not to be a slave. To be
the Fire - to be the Hell, to be the Ice - not to be the wave. To be the
Chaos - to be the Blackness, to be the Moon - not to be the Sun. To be the
Night - to be the Darkness, to be the Blood - not to be the Fear. The hands
of Chaos, the heavens burning. I spirit on last sacrifice. The dark
vails hide our faces, in bloody dreams I hear the breath of woods. To be
the Dusk, to be the Dawn, to be the Free, to be the Spawn. High grass
stretches its to the Moon, it's burried in the grass among the deep forest.
The crack of trees is like the harmony of nature that makes me listen to
the silence. I hear the silence, I see the night, my hands are cold like
the breath of winter. The blood doesn't run through these veins, it left my
body. The wounds don't disturb and pain is gone. The darkness is eternal!
And life of the master of blackness is immortal! The hands of Chaos on the
burned heaven ashes. In my immortality has been born. To be the Thunder -
to be the Eminence, to be Silence - to be the Grave, to be the Sword - to
be the War, to be the peace - to be the shit. To be the hird - to be the
sky, to be the cloud - to be immortal, to be the God - to be the Man, to be
the Power - to be the God, to be the Chaos.

Under The Banners Of The Horned Knjaz

(music: Knjaz Varggoth/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

(in russian language)
You don't understand this.

The 13th Asbath Celebration

(music: Knjaz Varggoth, Saturious/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The bitterness was born in a soul thrusting the Atame sacrifice, the "Book
Of Shadows" is opened, we're waiting for the full-moon's arrival - we're
celebrating the thirteenth Asbath. I lift my eyes, I look at the moonrise,
the Goddess of the night takes my gifts. You came to us through your
immortality, attach us to the true craft. Give us the power, give us the
great understanding. I draw the magic circle by my baton, and the skull of
the deer on its top starts to light. Oh Moon, the great mother! Protectress
of our destinies and secret intensions. Fly up and light our deeds by your
limpid light. Thrust your sharp rays into the Earth. We're absorbing the
full-moon power - this is the thirteen Asbath. Let the blood of the
sacrificed flow into your heart. The bowels in the priestess hands are
filled with water - chaos that symbolizes the Moon and rules by it. Oh,
Moon, the great mother, we're absorbing your power - this is the thirteen
Asbath. Naked our bodies we gash in the long-lasting dance, goung around
the circle repeatedly against the moving of the sun. The nature is singing
and delighting - we're celebrating the thirteen Asbath. Marble moon give us
the power. Our bodies are stewing and poison draught is ready. Our circle
is unbreakable, we're embraced by the only ecstasy. The wine runs through
our veins and our joy is gifted to darkness. On the mountain tops, on the
tops of the trees - everywhere you look is the Great our Mother - Moon.



The Forgotten Ages Of Victories

(music: Knjaz Varggoth/lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The thunder of the drums is heard and cattle herds are driving back. Sunset
is driving near, The heat of hoofs - all around melt away in the shaggy
beard of great and wise elder sunset. The forests and the mountains
surrounding the village he covers by golden cloth - the night is drawing
near. Bonfires blaze up and the flame tongues raise up to blacken sky like
hands. The hearers faces are visible through the flame. The grey-haired
elder opens the secret of his past, through night and fire his word again
find the youth. His face covered with wrinkles like waterless earth shined
with life as in his youth. And his tale was drifted through the time to
distant faraways of those days. When the steel was like continuation of the
hand and the warriors were not afraid of their enemies power - then moon
was shining brighter and sun warned more times than nowadays. The forest
has been lighted by thousand of bonfires, it have been seen that
celebration has begun, and singing drowned the noise of the wind but (the)
elder continued this tale. When the valor and the honor was valued oved lie
and hypocrisy, when the pride and the eminence was valued over the slavery
and the cowardice. The enemies cities and villages were on fire! Blood and
death, screams and mourns - Hell came out! The honor and the praise to
power. The beat of hoofs and crunch of steel, the scythe of death flied
over this field, eyes were looking into eyes and heavens were on fire! The
warriors heart melted and tears appeared in the old eyes - the tears of the
real master. His hand is clenched in the first, the teeth was gritted as
that time, the ages of victories are over. It's now time to wait. No sooner
that the sun get out of continement and the first rays let the birds know
that the day had come. No sooner that the herds were driving on the pasture
the hair of the old warrior was streaming by the breeze. He'd been looking
at the faraways and didn't find that the celebration was over. His thoughts
were with those far times. Like a cold shudder passed through his skin. He
rose and returned back to his house not left by the memories about those
distant times. The honor and praise to power! The forgotten ages of




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