1. A Celtic Mourning

(инструментал)

перевод: "Кельтский траур" (Ganconer) »

2. Celtica (Voice Of The Morrigan)

On the ground he lays,
His lifeblood drains from him,
The battle has been fought,
And the fighting now stopped.
He scans the battlefield,
Oh the bloodshed he can see,
So many that have died,
And so few who survived.

His brother's men at arms,
Who he's known since he was a lad,
Lie silent by his side no longer alive.

Lying by a tree
Is a broken shattered man,
Killed by the sword in my warrior's hand.
But in his heart
He does not hate this man,
He fought for a case,
He could not understand.

His brother's men at arms,
Who he's known since he was a lad,
Lie silent by his side no longer alive.

A thousand years have passed
And mankind has stayed the same,
They fight against each other for political gain,
A politic state rule – the government tool,
People live in fear under madman rule.

His brother's men at arms,
Who've been with him since he was a lad,
Will fight by his side for the right to survive.

A thousand years more
And the world may not exist,
The cause will be greed and an iron fist
The spirits will rejoice,
Mankind will not be missed.
It's up to you
It cannot come to this. His brother's men at arms,
Who've been with him since he was a lad,
Will fight by his side for the right to survive.

перевод: "Кельтика (глас Морриган)" (Ganconer) »

3. The Fianna

When evening in Eireann was gray,
Before the dawn went away,
Their footsteps on hills were heard,
On journey long without a word.

From wilderland to western shore,
Through dragon lair and hidden door,
From northern waste to southern hill,
On darkling woods they walked at will.

With Fionn and Oisin, dwarfe and man,
Bird and bough and beast in den,
With warrior-druid folk,
In secret tongues they spoke.

A deadly sword, a healing hand,
Trumpet voice, a burning brand,
Their backs that bent 'neath their load,
Those warriors on the road.

перевод: "Фианна (Фианы)" (Ganconer) »

4. A Druids Passing

See the stone circle on the hilltop,
Shining in the light of the moon,
See the druid kneel in prayer,
Praying because his life will end soon.

For fifty years he has walked this earth,
For fifty years he has known no shame,
Now he knows it's time to return,
Back to the earth from whence he came.

See the stone circle on the hilltop,
Shining in the break of day,
See the druid lying in silence,
See the druid who died today.

перевод: "Смерть друида" (Ganconer) »

5. Is Fuair An Chroy

Medb; You said you would always be there,
You said you would always care,
You said you would always be there,
You said you would always care,
I was nadve and I was wrong,
To you, I do not belong!

Ailill; Say what you want to say,
You always try to have your way,
I try to say that things in life are different.
If this is how you feel in your heart,
Then I don't want to be a part,
In anything you say –I won't listen.

Your love redeems my pain,
But I don't want to feel the shame,
You've tried to pierce my heart,
And you've succeeded.

We know now it could never be,
What we once had was ecstacy,
I can't pretend my soul is not bleeding.

перевод: "Ис фуари ан хрои" (Ganconer) »

6. Cattle Raid Of Cooley

(инструментал)

перевод: "Угон быка из Куалнге (Таин бо Куалгне)" (Ganconer) »

7. The Middle Kingdom

We who are old yet fair of face,
Thousands of years this world did grace,
Beneath the earth away from men,
Our Middle Kingdom it lies hidden.
With sword in hand and our shields by our sides,
We march in hoards we will never subside.
Our DЪ Danann form has passed with time,
But still we love music and still we love wine.

We are of the forest, we are of the earth,
Our heads full of knowledge our ways full of mirth.

We know all the answers to questions unasked,
We live in the light with no fear of the dark.

It must be said we have dark evil breeds,
Who plague mankind with their mischievous deeds,
The Phooka, the Merrow, the wailing Bean-shee,
Are hideous creatures as dark as can be.

Avoid the lone thorn tree that grows in the field,
Do not cut it down with the axe that you wield,
It coarses magic from branch to root,
And woe to he who eats its fruit.
Of itself the tree did grow,
From faerie magic cast long ago,
Therefore we bid you to let it stand,
Ill fortune to those who ignore our command.

"We who are old, we are revered, born of the earth, immortal and feared"

In the dead of night see us dance on the hills,
On fiddles and flutes we play jigs and reels.
The sky is ablaze with a myriad of light,
Our faerie music is heard through the night.
We who are old yet fair of face,
Thousands of years this world did grace,
But modern man and his cynical ways,
Are bringing us to the end of our days.

перевод: "Среднее королевство" (Ganconer) »

8. Óró Sé Do Bheatha Abhaile

Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile,
Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile,
Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

'Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar,
do ba é ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibheann,
do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh méirleach,
is tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.

Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile,
óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,
Gaeil iad féin is ní Gaill ná Spáinnigh,
is cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceann,
mura mbim beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain,
Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch,
ag fógairt féin ar Ghallaibh.

перевод: "Добро пожаловать домой" (Ganconer) »

9. Unstabled (Steeds Of Macha)

Roaming, wandering,
Left in fields just sauntering.
Sold off, slept rough,
Kept unstabled and tough.

Riding steeds that know not their fate.
Forever forward,
Bought and sold for pennies.

Roaming, wandering unstabled.

Unspoiled in their fantasies,
But paled in society,
When they take the beast,
The fight unsung will never cease.

Polluted grasslands,
The plains they roamed are now gone,
Still roaming and wandering,
Another dead horse is falling

перевод: "Неугомонные (Кони Махи)" (Ganconer) »

10. The Butterfly

(инструментал)

перевод: "Бабочка" (Ganconer) »

11. To Hell Or To Connaught

(Digi Bonus Track)

We fled for our lives on a winter's eve,
Cold but unheeded, we left with speed.
The roundheads they had come this night,
Our gallant people? But blood in sight.

If we were to barter for our lives,
We would wind up dead.
This is the land where I was born and bred,
Am I a coward to avoid being dead?

These are the words of our forefathers,
Long ago, in a time of fear.
They say "what giveth returns time thee"
Now in this age, we will wait and see.

Condemn what you will in this war of worlds,
Shout if you want amid peaceful slurs.
But how do you stop a charging bull,
With horns of steel and a desire to cull?