Orakle

Le Théatre de la Nature - Acte II : Le Repos

Orakle


The quietus 
My vision... apathetic 
Lost in the middle of tears 
This time, hell was far higher 

When the wind returns to the tomb 
And the rain, lone, succumbs 
I behold the trees, free anew 
In this temple forgetting the past's rage 

Ruined by a devastating passion 
Disfigured scene, wounds intuition 
And the trees mourn their sudden demise 
Pillars in their turn bowing to the harm 

Torn by the gusts of yore 
Weapons are unveiled, with a bloody destiny 
Memories from a skies' dreadful sublime impulse 

Those wintry evenings, as a veil falls night 
The cloudless sky lets glitter its first stars 
And engraving in me unforgettable memories 
Without triumph behind, nature withdraws... 

The rising moon seems to watch over the night 
Above mighty nature, in our infinite temple