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Не прошло и года (в буквальном смысле:) - выкладываю последний перевод из тех, что были на весконском сольнике.
Вначале ссылка на оригинал, после английский текст, в конце - видео, чтобы было понятно, как именно английский вариант ложится на мелодию.
Ссылка на оригинал
Перевод
Hey, ye sharpen the swords and lances
Drain the blood from the holy chalice!
Blades are gleaming, the torch fire prances
Like a ghost filled with daftly malice!
Rabid wind with fumes in its breath sets off the fires on the distant shore:
World is seethed with heralds of Death, with wolves and ravens, the beasts of War.
Spirits go ablaze with tinder,
Blades fly up in the dust and cinder,
Moonlight’s piercing and heads are swimming
Dance through coals as the fire’s dimming,
We emerge as ashes settle, just like the silver from filthy ore,
Born and bred by the heat of battle, and by Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
Our custom is midnight prowling
Our banner is conflagration
When we’re charging, we charge a-howling,
Dreadful pack, nightmare evocation,
Life is good when the swords are bare and howls and voices join in a roar,
As we swear to our gods and brethren, to Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
We will lunge at foes like whirlwind,
Hem them in like flame embraces;
Blade still shines through the gore that blurred it,
Blood’s still hot when it covers faces
Sons of Bleeding Moon come at once, with chant that foes never heard before,
As we’re led into deadly dance, by Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
Hey, ye, feast today galore, friend,
For tomorrow the world is ours!
Charging Wolf shall feed on gore and
Howl above to where Raven hovers
And a fallen hero rejoices, and is asking for nothing more,
Than the praise of the two with wild voices of Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
Вначале ссылка на оригинал, после английский текст, в конце - видео, чтобы было понятно, как именно английский вариант ложится на мелодию.
Ссылка на оригинал
Перевод
Hey, ye sharpen the swords and lances
Drain the blood from the holy chalice!
Blades are gleaming, the torch fire prances
Like a ghost filled with daftly malice!
Rabid wind with fumes in its breath sets off the fires on the distant shore:
World is seethed with heralds of Death, with wolves and ravens, the beasts of War.
Spirits go ablaze with tinder,
Blades fly up in the dust and cinder,
Moonlight’s piercing and heads are swimming
Dance through coals as the fire’s dimming,
We emerge as ashes settle, just like the silver from filthy ore,
Born and bred by the heat of battle, and by Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
Our custom is midnight prowling
Our banner is conflagration
When we’re charging, we charge a-howling,
Dreadful pack, nightmare evocation,
Life is good when the swords are bare and howls and voices join in a roar,
As we swear to our gods and brethren, to Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
We will lunge at foes like whirlwind,
Hem them in like flame embraces;
Blade still shines through the gore that blurred it,
Blood’s still hot when it covers faces
Sons of Bleeding Moon come at once, with chant that foes never heard before,
As we’re led into deadly dance, by Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
Hey, ye, feast today galore, friend,
For tomorrow the world is ours!
Charging Wolf shall feed on gore and
Howl above to where Raven hovers
And a fallen hero rejoices, and is asking for nothing more,
Than the praise of the two with wild voices of Wolf and Raven, the beasts of War.
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btw there was a taiko thing you posted on facebook that I thought I saved but didnt...
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Kind regards,
Antrekot