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Cruachan: "Pagan" – 2004

энциклопедия: Cruachan

Состав группы:

  • Karen Gilligan – вокал, перкуссия
  • Keith Fay – вокал, электро– и акустическая гитары, клавишные, bouzouki, мандолина, банджо, бойран, перкуссия
  • Johm Clohessy – бас, бэк-вокал
  • Joe Farrell – ударные, перкуссия

Приглашённые музыканты:

  • John O Fathaigh – ирландская флейта, свистки, деревянная флейта, bombarde
  • Chris Kavanagh – вокал на "Some Say"
  • Diane O'Keefe – виолончель
  • Tommy Martin – жалейка
  • Michelle O'Brien – скрипка

Cruachan: "Pagan" – 2004

Композиции:

  1. Michael Collins
  2. Pagan
  3. The Gael
  4. Ard Ri Na Heireann
  5. The March To Cluain Tairbh
  6. Viking Slayer
  7. 1014 A.D.
  8. Some Say The Devil Is Dead
  9. A Thousand Years
  10. Summoning Of The Sidhe
  11. Erinsong
  12. Lament For He Wild Geese
  13. The Fall Of Gondolin

Лирика

1. Michael Collins

A volunteer in his nations struggle
Another soldier in the G.P.O.
The rising failed – our leaders captured
The English grip would not let go
But Michael would return to lead us
In our fight to re-claim our lands
The I.R.B. will march victorious
For they shall have the upper hand

He railled men from far ans wide
To join the rebellion that lay ahead
His murder squad was formed in earnest
The secret service soon lay dead
In reprisal the British army killed
Innocent people watching a hurling game
That day would become a turning point
Irish psyche would never be the same

The customs house was set on fire
The I.R.B. became the I.R.A.
The time was nigh to call a cease-fire
July 1th would be that day
De Valera, our elected president
Knew a republic he would not get
He sent Collins to meet the British
He sent Collins to his death!

The British treaty was signed by Collins
A free state was all they would give
A step towards independence
Is better that a war we cannot win
Many people did not agree with him
Civil war split the country in two
Michael would die from an Irish bullet
He gave his best, what more could he do?

перевод: "Майкл Коллинз" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

2. Pagan

A scourge on the world from the earliest days
Christ, his church and his sinister ways
Starter of wars, Instigator of crimes
Despoiler of cultures, Destroyer of minds

More people have died in the name of Christ
Than any other in the history of life
You kill all who oppose your perfidious might
A religion of conquest born in black light

Our father who art in heaven
Corruption be thy name
You blind your people with lies
False prophet your only gain
Thy kingdom come and be done
Your time is now at an end
The veil is slowly being lifted
Your past you must try to defend

They prey on our children so young and naive
These pedophile bastards they are a disease
They preach about love, or so I am told
But the love that they practice is twisted and cold

перевод: "Язычник" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

3. The Gael

I hear you calling
Your voice so fair
I reach out to touch you
But know you're not there

The summer is ending
Clouds darken the sky
As the rain starts to fall
I weep and I cry

No more can I see you
Now you have passed on
The world seems so lifeless
And cold with you gone

I look at the place
Were we both used to lie
And think of times past
With a tear in my eye

перевод: "Гаэл (шотландский кельт)" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

4. Ard Ri Na Heireann

A tale of honor I will now tell
About a man, strong and true
Brian Boru was his name
And through his deeds a nation grew
He was born in a time of bondage
The viking raiders claimed his lands
His hatred grew when he saw his mother
Killing by vicious viking hands

His brother Mahon strived for peace
Brian knew it would never come
The vikings have us by the throat!
They kill our children just for
Boru left with a group of men
They rode into the fading light
He would attack the many viking camps
And vanish in the dark of night

Brian Boru, our beloved son
Fought the Dane, he fought and won
Losy his life at eighty eight
Death by a viking blade was his fate

Brian Boru, our last Ard Ri
Led the Gael to victory
Could not stand his countries plight
He removed the vikings from his sight

Malachy, the king of Meath, with Brian face to face
They both agreed that Brian should take
The monarchy of the Gaelic race
Brian had much word to do
To heal the wounds of Danish reign
He planned a massive call to arms
To remove the last of the Dane

To Clontarf Brian's army marched
To give the Dane their final fight
The army charged with swords help high
The viking line was soon in sight
The battle rages for many hours
And many fine warriors fell
But victory was always ours
The Gaelic might could not be quelled

Brian Boru, our beloved son
Fought the Dane, he fought and won
Losy his life at eighty eight
Death by a viking blade was his fate

Brian Boru, our last Ard Ri
Led the Gael to victory
Could not stand his countries plight
He removed the vikings from his sight

перевод: "Последний боец" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

5. The March To Cluain Tairbh

(инструментал)

перевод: (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

6. Viking Slayer

I watch the sky turning black
And know the time is fast approaching
My clan they all look to me
I turn away, I face the ocean
In the dark I see a fleet of long-ships on the horizon
Again the Vikings come, to this land they are a poison

Archers ready your bows, swordsmen ready your blades
Gods be with us this night, as we stop this barbarian raids
Their boats now pulled to shore
Scrawny men pour forth from the hull
Their faces look ailing and drawn
But their minds are bent on the cull

On they come, these viking raiders, pale and grey
With withered bodies and swords to slay
Charging forth, from filthy ships, towards our line
But we are butchers and they are our swine

By ready men, they fast approach, the time is here
Stand firm at your line and show to fear
From the north, this army comes, to raid our lands
But instead tonight they will die by Gaelic hands

I give the call to attack, and we charge towards the Vikings
Arrows scream over head, and begin this night of killing
I watch as the armies collide, flesh and bone gets torn asunder
So many of my warriors die, as they stop viking plunder

In the distance I see, their leader so wretched and vile
Leading his men with pride, I see his weakness and I smile
Caught up in his stupor of greed, I slice his head from his neck
His cowardly men run away, victory is ours this day

перевод: "Убийца викингов" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

7. 1014 A.D.

(инструментал)

перевод: (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

8. Some Say The Devil Is Dead

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney
More say he rose again, more say he rose again
More say he rose again and joined the British Army

Feed the pigs and milk the cow, and milk the cow, and milk the cow
Feed the pigs and milk the cow, early in the morning
Cock your leg, oh Paddy dear, Paddy dear I'm over here
Cock your leg, oh Paddy dear, it's time to stop your yawning

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney
More say he rose again, more say he rose again
More say he rose again and joined the British Army

Katie she is tall and thin, she's tall and thin, and tall and thin
Katie she is tall and thin, and like her drops of brandy
Drinks it in the bed each night, drinks it in the bed each night
Drinks it in the bed each night, it makes her nice and randy

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney
More say he rose again, more say he rose again
More say he rose again and joined the British Army

The wife she has the hairy thing, a hairy thing, a hairy thing
The wife she has the hairy thing, she showed it to me on Sunday
She bought it in the furrier's shop, bought it in the furrier's shop
She bought it in the furriers's shop, it's going back on Monday

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney
More say he rose again, more say he rose again
More say he rose again and joined the British Army

My one's over six feet tall, six feet tall, six feet tall
My one's over six feet tall, she likes the sugar candy
Goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six o'clock
Goes to bed at six o'clock, she's lazy, fat and dandy

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney
More say he rose again, more say he rose again
More say he rose again and joined the British Army

перевод: "Некоторые говорят, что Дьявол мертв" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

9. A Thousand Years

As I look out across the sea
I stand proud but am I free?
A thousand years have come and gone
I have won, I will go on
Stand firm against the storm
I cannot see it but it will come
And with the ghosts of a million Gaels
I will rise up, I will prevail

You can starve my children
You can kill my fighting man
Take away my right to freedom
And when my back is turned you kill again
You can burn my houses
Take away all that I have known
But the seeds are sown

When the Dane invaded
The held the Gael with a strangle-hold
Until Boru joined to clans
He won the war, re-claimed my lands
My green fields have been stained red
From the blood of the Irish dead
But with this fire that burns inside
I will always rebel, I will survive

You can starve my children
You can kill my fighting man
Take away my right to freedom
And when my back is turned you kill again
You can burn my houses
Take away all that I have known
But the seeds are sown

перевод: "Тысяча лет" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

10. Summoning Of The Sidhe

(инструментал)

перевод: (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

11. Erinsong

I am the wind that blows over the sea
I am the wave of the ocean
I am the murmur of the billows
I am the ox of the seven combats
I am a vulture on the rock
I am a ray of the sun
I am the fairest of plants
I am a wild boar in valour

Come with me, I'll show you eternity
This magical ring, it holds the key to everything
Our faerie land, the forests and mountains you see
Created by magic, cast from the Gods and the Sidhe

I am a salmon in the water
I am a lake in the plain
I am the craft of the artificer
I am a word of science
I am the god that creates
In the head of man the fire of thought
I am the spear-point cast in battle
I am the druid, I am the God

Come with me, I'll show you eternity
This magical ring, it holds the key to everything
Our faerie land, the forests and mountains you see
Who shows the place where the sun goes to rest if not I?

перевод: "Песнь Ирландии" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

12. Lament For He Wild Geese

(инструментал)

перевод: (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

13. The Fall Of Gondolin

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth
It's splendour was highly acclaimed
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong
In the land were Turgon Reigned
Then Tuor was sent by Ulmo
The lord of the ocean and sea
To tell the people of Gondolin
Prepare to fight or flee

But Turgon he was stubborn
"That will I not do!"
He had grown to love his city
And the terror of Morgoth he knew

The city was discovered
And Morgoth sent his legions
Orc warriors with the fire-drakes
Led by the Balrog demons

They appeared before the gates and quickly the Gates fell
The way was now clear, through the Elven halls
The orcs of such hatred poured into the breath
With scimitars they stabbed both man and beast

The Noldor Elf advanced with hammer of wrath
And the kindred of the tree-bravely they fought
The blows from their hammers, the dint of their clubs
The orcs fell like leaves but this was not enough

The lord of the Balrogs gathered his demons
And made for the folk of the hammer
They fled in terror rather than of craft
Down in the plain they all gathered
But the fire-drake was loosed upon them
In the house of the hammer they died
Still it is sung that each Elf of the hammer
Took the lives of seven orcs to pay for their own

Gothmog drove the dragons into the cities heart
Orcs and Noldor fell under the confusion
The cold-drakes began to tear the streets apart
The Noldor began to realise the battle they'd lose

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth
It's splendour was highly acclaimed
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong
In the land were Turgon Reigned
But now it lay akin to ruins
As the fire devoured its insides
The last hope for the Elves who lived
Was to run and flee abd hide

But Turgon he was stubborn
"That will I not do!"
He had grown to love his city
And the terror of Morgoth he knew

перевод: "Падение Гондолина" (Nr) »

Идёт загрузка...

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