Arcturus Album

[No lyrics]

Unfortunate the hoax
that you are not immune
For if beauty was hurt
Like children naked and misused
We would aspire towards
States of disturbed emotions
And never need to mirror off
Like shadows of a greater joy
While moralist angels repare
Their heavenly cocktail lounge

In darker institutions
They are beyond discipline
And repentance is no option

But do not despair
I know of an exit
Destruction thinkers travel
The other way around
Where directions are none
And the ground is gone
Such treacherous gates to enter
Even bigger doubts inside
Doors shut from the outsid
And you hear the sound
Of someone walking away

You just disappeared
In a backsweep
Of darkness and stars

Famler hen, til nattvart himmel
Vandring hjem, til nattsvart himmel
Vandring hjem i eismal
Under skumringens tidligste stjerne
Tusmørket dypner i det fjerne

Du nordavind, jeg speider fjern og nær
Kommer du igjen fra de å land hvor ingen mann er

Tilsammen - vi to over beksvart hav

Enn om du aldri hit vil komme
Jeg tilbyi deg mitt kjølnende blod
Evig vil min sjel skue mot nord
Stundom mitt sinn skal reise
Til tid tar slutt på jord

Hver en jåvel vill
Som sank i vann før tid var til...
Jeg drev forlatt og vandret vill
Ennu har du ikke hørt mitt hill
I tomme natten skimjet jeg
Et glimt av land, en evig ild

(English translation:)

(You Northern Wind)

A pale hour of the day
Grope away, to the night-black sky
Wandering home, to the night-black sky
Wandering home alone
Under evening's earliest star
Twilight sinks in the distance

You northern wind, I'm looking far and near
Will you come again from the wasteland where there is no one?

Together - we two over black pitch sea

Even if you'll never come here
I can give you my chilling blood
Forever will my soul look at the north
Often my soul shall journey
Until time ends on earth

As wild as a devil
That sank in the water before time was...
I walked alone and wandered in the wilderness
Still you didn't hear my call
In the empty night I can see
A glare in the land, an eternal fire

[Poem by Edgar Allan Poe]

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I lov'd alone
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lighting in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by -
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that look the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

(based on the poem "Tragediens Trone" by John Henrik Svaren)
(is translated by the undersigned, and hereby dedicated to Kristoffer Garm Rygg)

Hear!
From this day forth
are the heights of Horeb broken
and the sea of sulphur-ice.

And blasphemy!
in heaven's chambers:
Souls had fled their halls
and closed was the book of life.
And behold!
The great, white throne:
black
with sacred blood

Our father -
Dead by his own hands:
an epitaph
worthy no king.

And so is everything
a nameless lie.
Who, my god,
am I?

Man knows me
as Lucifer, the serpent of old.
The wretched hold my banner high.
Your gift
- all life! -
I grant a grave
Yet I am not your death.

Come carry forth the crown
to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease
- but alas; I am crowned
in grief unheard of!

In this lone monarchy
- without a friend of foe -
I greet the mourning sun
with strife and a song:
Please speak my name!
And leave me not
in the dust of death.

I am weighed down
beneath the tragedy crown, -
nameless,
and alone,
a fatherless son.

(JHS 1996)

(based on the poem "Tragediens Trone" by John Henrik Svaren)
(is translated by the undersigned, and hereby dedicated to Kristoffer Garm Rygg)

Hear!
From this day forth
are the heights of Horeb broken
and the sea of sulphur-ice.

And blasphemy!
in heaven's chambers:
Souls had fled their halls
and closed was the book of life.
And behold!
The great, white throne:
black
with sacred blood

Our father -
Dead by his own hands:
an epitaph
worthy no king.

And so is everything
a nameless lie.
Who, my god,
am I?

Man knows me
as Lucifer, the serpent of old.
The wretched hold my banner high.
Your gift
- all life! -
I grant a grave
Yet I am not your death.

Come carry forth the crown
to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease
- but alas; I am crowned
in grief unheard of!

In this lone monarchy
- without a friend of foe -
I greet the mourning sun
with strife and a song:
Please speak my name!
And leave me not
in the dust of death.

I am weighed down
beneath the tragedy crown, -
nameless,
and alone,
a fatherless son.

(JHS 1996)

("No! this face is only a mask a wicked ornament,
Illuminated by an exquisite grimace,
Look and see, atrociously contoroled,
The real head, and the sincere face
Turned back under the shadow of the face which lies." -
Charles Baudelaire )

He is profanity in sancitity's guise
An alias assumed I do recognize
In their eyes , his cause -
when enticing and cunning in impact
is still a criminal and evil act.

So look for him vainly, He,
the incarnation of evil: And by
arrangements of magickal nature
He turns unrecognizable even to the
experienced eye.

You obsessively pursue him
Falling to see, that was why he came to be
one who annihilates with such impunity

He appears your friend, but
the Saint hides many Satans
He's contemptous, you know
of your Godgiven stupidities
He calls you in question which
affected modesty and create
of you an object of derision

You think him to be the pariah
whom company does exclude
But in the midst of all frenzy
He is - feasting in a transitory mood

Passion is strict lord
He is also its humble slave
When bereft of common ways,
He strides before you on water
He makes clowns of kings,
charms the guests, rides the ball -
Is the master of disguise

Prince of the thousandfold face -
the charming jester's smile
which invites reason to demise,
and imaginations rise
Inscrutable yes, venting his spleen
Somewhere night and day between
Is the master of disguise

It was a dark night, I couldn't see;
And senses were unbound in ESP

When in dream awake,
I'd paint,
Subconcious, the expanse I saw

The portal to the minds eye, open!
- I contemplated
Who it was that pulled the strings

O those things I saw in dreadful masquerade
Of stark madness went merry round with my head

I passed out, embraced their world
Savoured the poetry of revolt -
Sheer elegy of menace

I have not been the same since,
I took on the profession of a devil
The world I see in grotesque light
Evil perform with the gestures of a clown

Pure I live in blasphemy
Mephisto I am hidden in Madonnas gown
From the code of common sense I'm free
To(o) bad you're not here to partake my strange horror

'Cause here is where or weys will part
I will not exchange their power,
spring of my suffering
I do not envy the conscience pure
of the blind man in his bliss world
I would not be devoid the fruit of guile

I have everywhere sought,
and nowhere found
So I lift the bleedin' bodkin
And trust the grief deepest in

The gleaming bodies of the infinite skies
Have for my spirit
The cold charm
Of death's welcoming eyes
In secret to my soul
They are ideals of old

I have everywhere sought,
and nowhere found
So I lift the bleedin' bodkin
And trust the grief deepest in

The gleaming bodies of the infinite skies
Have for my spirit
The cold charm
Of death's welcoming eyes
In secret to my soul
They are ideals of old