Theatre Of Tragedy
Promo 1994 (demo)



1. Sweet Art Thou

"Stay still patient; wilt thou my sister of merciful troth be?
I shall attempt the halter of thy life make less lighten'd!"

"I shall climb the yew,
Will it subdue me or not!"

"Swooning emotions smite my bosom -
I have in aptness depriev'd thy eyrie
Fro many another a lass -
Dodge thither sable of yore!"

"Oh! - but ne'er alas;
Lodge here fore'ermore."

"A narrow dell hath now for me turn'd into a broad land;
A land rich with fields of the Simbelmynë."

"Sonorous to my ears are the words form'd by thy tongue;
Conquer me! - Waylay me! - Swathe me 'twixt thy arms!
Make me sense the wine which is drunk by queens,
And let it flow white and full in taste o'er my lips."

"Make me sense the wine which is drunk by kings,
And let it flow red and full in taste o'er my lips."

"A dais'd bridge o'er the ghyll,
In which a river bottomless -
I would have drownéd,
Yet thou drewest me out soaking!"

"Save thou art not yet all parchéd -
Eavesdroppest ye: A wee drop,
Whence it comes I can only deem,
Lest this for me is a gay dream:
A dream that will sojourn eternally -
In which theatre I will act!"

"I can hear it! - I can feel it!
Yet I will not tarry idly!
Let it adamant be -
Empty the flagon in me!"


2. To These Words I Beheld No Tongue

Whether the throned Monarch weareth the crown,
Which I know not whether to his belongeth;
Doth he hence the sceptre sway?
Seasoneth he justice? -
Daresay I he doth not,
Will he then use his sceptre as a wand? -
Where doth sit my awe? - Trieth me conjure;
Perchance a spell?; a reptile, a sullied hound? -
Is the gentle rain a quality of his? -
I bethink this fro my thoughts; hitherto, about this,
I beheld to these words no tongue; are the
Monarch's men his thralls or his servants? -
Oft I waylay my tongue -
Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart not heed'd;
Or doth the throstle sing with more glee
At daybreak than than a twilight? -
Brawl not my imp, nor my cherub; reserve my judgement -
Crave not the sword when the bodkin fro ere thine is;
That undiscover'd country; be that
Of calamity, be that of joy, be that of apathy;
Tread not paths of new when those of old are
Far by an only single footstep; walk, be it
On the left, on the right - be it the one which
Straight forward leadeth; the one of correct
I have as until now not heed'd any signs of!


3. Lament of the Perishing Roses

Where'er thou walkest, thou strewest roses -
Thornless and deep reds are they;
Onto a beauteous path harmony thou leadest,
Where waterfalls sing their hymns of appraisal

Germinate into green the sterile earth -
Equiponderat'd new life against decay.

Wash the macrocosm with morning dew -
Aurora of the waterfalls' encircling rainbow.s

In the horizon the appearance of a blackening empyrean.
A furious whirling wind accompanied by skies of dusk.

In the lead - The Pale Horse - pulling a cart of dead deities -
The beautiful colors are drift'd away.

Black Asphodels ascend from the overcloudéd livid blossom;
Completely covering acherontic the land that was thought everlasting.


4. Hitherto One Blossom Withstands the Ever-Returning Sleepiness of the Frost

In silence Quietus came and took you by the hand;
The mementoes vanish'd abaft the Misty Mountains -
Pitiful malady caus'd your heart weeping.

The prothalamion in the far proclaimed the wedlock 'twixt day and night -
And caressed most soft breasts with heavyheartedness.

The prints of your footsteps were slowly erased by the snowstorm in my winter -
Yet hitherto one blossom withstood the ever-returning sleepiness.

"Will I at all see the rain falling - amid the weed -
Into the puddle - like tears into my hands?!"

"Offer me relief with sunrays in my sombreness,
And I will swallow yesterday with bereavement!"



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