Cruachan все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Примечания: Быть бесстрашным воином – вот идеал жизни для кельтов. Они выказывали мало страха, так как верили, что смерть это только изменение местопребывания и жизнь продолжается во всех своих формах в другом мире. Они верили в постоянный обмен, что происходит между нашим миром и потусторонним миром: живые души попадают в этот мир, а мы отдаем наших умерших в тот мир. Такие греки как Аристотель и Солон утверждали, что их собственная доктрина бессмертия была заимствована у континентальных кельтов. Смерти ни только не боялись, но даже праздновали. Умерших очевидно оплакивали, но, как и в современной Ирландии, люди праздновали начало пути умерших в потусторонний мир. Кельты имели естественное представление о том, что живые существа способны легко перемещаться из физического мира в потусторонний, так как по большей части между ними нет барьеров. Они так мало боялись смерти, что иногда сбрасывали доспехи и одежду и шли в бой обнаженными. Римлянин Полибиус рассказывал как в битве при Теламоне в 325 г до н.э. войска Гаесата сбросили свою одежду и атаковали римские войска, такой же случай произошел в битве при Каннае в 216 г до н.э.

See the stone circle on the hilltop
Shining in the light of the moon.
See the druid lying 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

See the stone circle on the hilltop
Shining in the light of the moon.
See the druid lying 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

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

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

Remember well the 30th of January,
The feeling of dread that was in the air.
The people marched for their right to equality,
They only wanted to be treated fair.
Shots were fired my a mindless military,
The people ran they were unarmed
Across the world we will read of Derry
And those who died by oppressive hands.

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.

The Hound of Culann,The Hound of Ulster,
He is of the otherworld,
His father is God Lugh Lamheada,
His mother Dectire is mortal.

Culann the smith was holding a feast,
For the Ard Ri Conchobhar,
His mighty Hound had been unleashed,

The years they passed like a flowing stream
in a highland vale shrouded in green.
The Fianna marched with Fionn at their helm,
though older and wiser this lord of the realm.
He was loyal to his king, Cormac Mac Art
and to his daughter would give his heart.
Her name was Grainne, noble and fair,
but to marry Fionn she would not dare.

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

Loneliness was all she knew,
Because of her God sent beauty.
Evil and carnage were sure to ensure,
Her death was Conchobars duty.
The high king Conchobar would not dare,
So he did her away from his people.
"Deirdre will live and grow up fair,
Then marry me in my temple".

Примечания: В мифологии ирландских кельтов Туан Мак Кэйрелл был реинкарнацией Туана Мак Стерна, приходившегося Парталону племянником. По преданию, только он один сумел пережить мор (чуму), погубившую всех соплеменников Парталона, и в новой жизни принял облик оленя. Затем он рождался еще несколько раз, в том числе – орлом и лососем. Будучи лососем, он был съеден женой Кэйрелла. Затем он родился опять, на этот раз став Туаном, сыном самого Кэйрелла, но в нем сохранилась память о прежних жизнях, обо всех своих превращениях и славных эпизодах истории Ирландии. В этой своей жизни с ним познакомился святой Финнен, ирландский аббат, живший в VI веке. После чего Туан поделился всеми своими воспоминаниями с христианскими монахами, которые тотчас бережно записали его рассказы.

Here I stand, I am naked and bloody,
My fists are clenched and my body is ready.
I grip my sword, I pray to my God,
I touch the Earth, I can feel its life.

My task is clear, to defend my land,
To rally my men, to lead and command.
My strength is hatred for these flaxen men,

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,

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

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,

The sky was grey and leaden,
Wolves howling on the wind.
Above the land of Tír Na n-Óg
The ancient calm still reigned.

"I long to stand on my home shore",
Said Ossian in a glare.
"But Ossian love, the is your home",

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

An evil in our midst that pervades our modern lives
An arbitrary congregation of the lowest form of man
Governed by a doctrine almost two thousand years old
Allowed to fester in our world for far too long!

So many times we hear the stories of their sick and vile crimes
The rape of innocent children, the destruction of their minds
Several decades of abuse have been carried out by some

"Скачи"

Правда, ты скачешь на лучшем коне, что я когда-либо видал,
С гривой, что вьется, словно в огне, и диким блеском в глазах.
И ты правишь им так легко, сжимая поводья в руках.
Я никогда не смогу быть с тобой, неважно как я хочу.

Скачи, я смотрю.

Life for you it was not easy,
And at times was so unfair.
In a time when works was scarce,
Many burdens were yours to bear.

You bore the brunt of grief,
When Patrick left the earth.
Such a tragedy to happen,

Maeve was a queen with a passion for war.
She had riches and wealth, but still wanted more.
She wanted the bull that dwelled in Cooley -
a magnificent beast that she longed to see.

Maeve was a queen with a passion for war.
She had riches and wealth, but still wanted more.
She longed for the bull that dwelled in Cooley -

[Music: KF, JF Words: KF]

In a time of myth and magic,
lived a man of timeless power,
Lir was his name,
but his temper had turned sour.
He would not be king of the land,
Bov Dearg was chosen instead.

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

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,

They came here when the sun was high.
The sea was calm to meet them.
From out of the wind above the hills.
Come a fleet of godly men.

Borne on strong winds from the otherworld.
Shrouded by magical mists-
The Tuatha De Danann came in their-

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

A warrior so proud of the woman by his side,
His faithful heart would take no other bride,
For three years they lived,
midst the forests of the land,
Strong and proud was the love
of this woman and man

Like the sky high above,

We are alone in this cursed land, left to die like starving dogs.
Our crops have failed us yet again; nothing grows in this desolate bog.
I hold my daughter in my arms. She is too weak to stand or walk.
Her face is gaunt, her belly empty; she cannot see, she cannot talk.

What money I had has all been spent, on bread and milk and bloody rent.
They take from us all that we have, these bastards that from Hell were sent.
My wife is dead. My home is lost, all around me dead and dying.

Lift MacCahir Og your face brooding o'er the old disgrace
That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place, drove you to the Fern
Grey said victory was sure soon the firebrand he'd secure;
Until he met at Glenmaiure with Fiach Mac Hugh O'Byrne.

Curse and swear Lord Kildare
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now Fitzwilliam, have a care

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 DU Danann form has passed with time,
But still we love music and still we love wine.

I fall to my knees, I await my death.
A fallen warrior, hear my last breath.
I fought so fierce, I fought with pride.
Now I am just another who died.

Who will care for my child? Who will care for my wife?
I leave them behind at the end of my life.
I long to stay and watch my child grow,

There was an old woman and she lived in the woods, weile weile waile.
There was an old woman and she lived in the woods, down by the river Saile.
She had a baby three months old, weile weile waile.
She had a baby three months old, down by the river Saile.
She had a pen knife, long and sharp, weile weile waile.
She had a pen knife, long and sharp, down by the river Saile.
She stuck the pen knife in the baby's heart, weile weile waile.
She stuck the pen knife in the baby's heart, down by the river Saile.

I've been a wild rover for many's the year
and I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer.
But now I'm returning with gold in great store
and I never will play the wild rover no more

Chorus:
And it's no, nay, never,
no, nay, never, no more

He holds a twisted torc in his hand,the forests are his ruling land."Great god Cernunnos,return to Earth again,come at my call and show thyself to men,sheperd of goats,upon the wild hills way,lead thy lost flock from darkness unto day".the Horned God is our nature deity,yet modern man would from his presence flee."Forgotten are the ways of sleep and night,men seek for them,whose eyes have lost the light,open the door,the door that hath no key,the door of dreams,wereby men come to thee".Sheperd of goats,O answer unto me!The summerlands is where we shall meet thee.To invoke thee.....The Horned God.

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.

He holds a twisted torc in his hand,
the forests are his ruling land.

"Great god Cernunnos, return to Earth again,
come at my call and show thyself to men,
sheperd of goats, upon the wild hills way,
lead thy lost flock from darkness unto day".

On the day of the De Danann rule,Breas ruled the pagan lands.He led his people as a fool,under the shadow of Balors hand.The Tuatha De lived a life of pain,in body and spirit their weakness grew,as though their battle was in vain,this can't go on the people knew.Dagda,All father,once God and provider,fell into disgrace with the king.The food he recieved would not feed a spider.-The best pieces,Cridinbel would win.Aengus was shoked by the state of his father,"Crindinbel must die",He did say. He put gold in the food,and the food on the platter,Crindinbel fell dead on that sacred day.Nuada awoke from the otherworld dream,his hand was forged by the gods,water was brought from the healing stream,"You will be king?".-He nods.Breas journied to the Fomor lands.And met his Fomorian father.They held each other in their hands,their kinship would stay hereafter.The Il-Dana came to meet with Nuada,the greatest hero of the Tuatha De,The Fomor arrived for their early tax,these savages Il-Dana did slay.Balor declared war and sent his tribes,Nuada prepared as did the scribesSamhain approached and tensions were high,Dagda went to the Fomor spy.Breas the dishonoured led a Fomor invasionthe Il-Dana won this first battle occasion.Back to Moytura the De Danann returned,they set up camp and the pagan fires burned,the first day of battle was a mighty event,druids were chanting as the scouts forth were sent.A great clash of shields,cries of was frenzy,blood fell on fields,each warrior the enemy.Nuada killed Indech,the king of the Fomor,the worm god was unleashedwith a taste for war.Nuada raised his sword of light,against the mighty Cromcruach,Balor caught uhim in his sight,Nuada died a hero's death.But Balor to the ground was cast,Il-Dana was the new high king,De Danann heroes won at last,never again to laugh and sing.

Evil incarnate from the depths of night,
a monstrous creature that hungers for light.
Corrupted by Melkor to do as he says,
this hideous spider, unwillingly obeys.

Telperion and Laurelin shone brightly this night,
these trees of the Gods, created for light.
All around Valmar shone silver and gold.

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

Born in occupied Dublin town, as the sun shone down on tyranny,
Wolfe Tone grew up a privileged man, receiving a Trinity college degree.
He despaired for his fellow countrymen under the rule of the British crown.
When they rose up to claim their land, the British always beat them down.

The society of (united) Irishmen he founded in 1791.
They called for freedom from the crown. They wanted justice to be done.
Outlawed they were for their noble views. Wolfe Tone was exiled from his land.