- 9/9/04 11:40 pm
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Coyoteļoti jauks darbs! :)
atgādina divus manus pirmos angļu val. dzejoļus.
tad , kad man episkais gars bija iekšā (vairs nezkāpēc nav)
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[Raid of Vikings]
A ship sails out of waters deep,
with dragon, red from blood,
from the thirst of war,
roaring on its stem.
Death is on its deck,
dragged from The North to Spain,
where fame and riches lay,
waiting to be gained.
It’s no game for sure,
‘cause murder comes to shore,
and there’s our hero,
let’s watch his deeds.
He’s tired, but fights with love and ease;
his mighty axe as eagle hunts its prey,
cutting its way to the fame of war,
knowing he might fall this very day.
Arrows are shot at him;
weapons of cowards, he laughs:
come closer that I can see,
the bloody face of victory.
The gold is taken, the city plundered,
but the hero is nowhere near-
away from the lust and beer,
away from the women and a tasty meal.
There he is, lying on his back,
with a bloody wound,
singing the song of death,
waiting for feasts in Valhalla to begin.
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[old time warrior]
Take your sword
The express of your soul
Long and sharp
With endless scratches on its blade
Witnessed battles of fame and extreme pain
Take your voice of freedom
The holy avenger of yours
And swing it high
Right into the sky covered in blood
With a colour of a setting sun
Where eagles unleash their power in a majestic flight
And let your war cry
Roam the land
And cause fear in every hero
To make them feel small again
To make them helpless freeze in time
And give you the time to kill
And show your skill
To make you free once again
But no one's there to watch your feat
Except the gods of war and song
And a lonely bard
Who writes the saga of you
So you can live forever
In an never-ending saga of war and pain