Paroles et traduction Mileth - Esperta! Letárxica e Erma Fraga

Esperta! Letárxica e Erma Fraga

Danzan as meigas no oculto brumar,
Pautan co demo o seu espertar.
Retorcen as hedras do pedregal,
Do círculo ergue a vida colosal.

Lume lanzal, escoita o berrar ancestral.
Lúa chea, verte o sangue sobre o val.
Cornos do mal, concibir o meu espertar.
Letárxica fraga, esperta co meu cantar.

O orballo alimenta túa alma,
O lume novo arreda o inverno,
Da terra brota o teu corpo,
Esperta mística do ermo.

Sucumbe memoria ó bautismo
Sombreade lembranzas ós pinos

Formosa alborada de cortiza branca,
Garrida xeada con ósos de pedra,
No sentido do sol danzan as chamas,
No caos emerxe a fraga.

Brancos curutos, bóveda dos ventos,
Resplandece verde prado ós lamentos.
Escuma da vida, esculpe teu danzar
Pagás invocacións ós elementais.

Reliquia que futura terra fertiliza,
Sobre ira que leda brúa na brisa,
Morre o serán ós nosos ollos,
Renace Bríxida no crisálido soño.

E na danza do teu mirar vexo castros, vexo o mar...
E nos beizos do teu Imbolc vexo a arder a lúa, vexo xear o sol...

Esperta! No que foi dourado chan,
Esperta! onde tornou xélida a man,
Voltan as follas no alto a sombrear,
A verde ultraxe da cíclica fraga-nai.

Awaken! Lethargic and Barren Moor

Witches dance in the hidden mist,
Summoning their awakening with the demon.
Ivy twists around the rocky ground,
From the circle rises colossal life.

Casting Light, hear the ancestral roar.
Full Moon, see the blood upon the valley.
Horns of evil, conceive my awakening.
Lethargic moor, awaken to my song.

Dew feeds your soul,
New fire banishes the winter,
From the earth your body sprouts,
Awaken, mystic of the wilderness.

Memory succumbs to baptism
Shadowing memories on the pines

Beautiful white-barked dawn,
Gallant frost with bones of stone,
Flames dance in the direction of the sun,
The moor emerges from chaos.

White peaks, vault of the winds,
Green meadow gleams in laments.
Foam of life, sculpt your dance
You pay invocations to the elements.

Relic that future fertile land,
Upon anger that blissful mist in the breeze,
The evening dies before our eyes,
Bríxida is reborn in the chrysalis dream.

And in the dance of your gaze I see forts, I see the sea...
And on the lips of your Imbolc I see the moon burning, I see the sun freezing...

Awake! In what was golden ground,
Awake! Where the hand became icy,
Leaves return to shade on high,
The green outrage of the cyclical mother-moor.