Kollaps Ar tillstandet vid alla koordinater
NAr ridan gar upp pa naivitetens teater
NAr moder jords talamod
tryter,
NAr mAnniskan kvAver hennes blom
Da, vArldsalltets vAldiga kAr ryter
Och fArkunnar sin fatala dom
FArdArvets
hammare slar med allt tyngre slag
Likt den i kakofonins smedja
DAr rAken ligger tAt bade natt och dag
Som en atbArd fAr att vi
smider AdelAggelsens kedja
Elden spyr ut sitt vildrAda sken
Och fArbrAnner markens hjArta
Flammor som dansar over
mortalitetens scen
Tills allt Ar fArbrAnt och hAljt i svArta
En vidstrAckt Aken kryper fram dAr det har bAljat ett skimrande
hav
Landskapets sjAl Ar fArvAnd och sprAckt
Av mAnsklig hand skulpteras sa naturens grav
Tills vArlden pryds av kaosets
ordensdrAkt
Gra Ar varje fjAril, kall Ar varje Aril
Och skuggor trAnger bort ljuset
Skogar har bArjat blAda, kvAvd Ar varje
grAda
Och tAmt Ar visdomskruset
Alla Angar har mist sin forna prakt,
Enfaldighetsharpans strAngar ljuder I denna trakt
DAr
livlAshetens stjArna brinner
Med ett kallt sken som vi aldrig Avervinner
[English translation:]
TO BUILD A
RUIN
Collapse is the state at all coordinates
When the curtains go up at the theatre of naivety
When Mother Earth's
patience runs low,
When man suffocates her blossom
Then, the universe's enormous choir roars
And announces its fatal
judgment
The hammer of ruin strikes with increasingly heavy blows
Like the one in the forge of cacophony
Where the smoke lies
thick both night and day
As a gesture that we are forging the chain of ruin
Fire spews out its wild red light
And burns the
heart of the land
Flames that dance over mortality's scene
Until all is burnt up and covered in blackness
A wide-streched
desert creeps forth where once a glimmering sea billowed
The soul of the landscape is warped and cracked
Nature's grave is thus
sculptured by human hands
Until the world is adorned by the garb of chaos
Every butterfly is grey, every fireplace is
cold
And the shadows force the light away
Forests have begun to bleed, every crop is suffocated
And the cup of wisdom has been
emptied
All meadows have lost their former splendour,
The strings of the harp of foolishness resound in this land
Where the
star of lifelessness burns
With a cold light which we will never overcome