Marche Funèbre – Lethe

Marche Funèbre – Lethe Lyrics

Artist: Marche Funèbre
Song: Lethe

Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde
Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents
Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde

Come to my heart, cold viper-soul malign
Beloved tiger, hydra indolent
Long will I drag my hands incontinent
And quivering, through this vast loosed mane of thine

Long will I bury throbbing brow and head
Among thy skirts all redolent of thee
And breathe, a blighted flower of perfidy
The fading odour of my passion dead

Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
Ensevelir ma tête endolorie
Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie
Le doux relent de mon amour défunt

I’ll sleep, not live! I’ll lose myself in sleep!
In slumber soft as Death’s uncertain shore
I’ll sleep and sow my drowsy kisses o’er
Thy polished coppery arms and bosom deep

Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort
J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre

Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche
L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche
Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers

I’ll sleep, not live! I’ll lose myself in sleep!
In slumber soft as Death’s uncertain shore
I’ll sleep and sow my drowsy kisses o’er
Thy polished coppery arms and bosom deep

To drown my sobs and still my spirit, o!
No boon but thine abysmal bed avails
Poppied oblivion from thy mouth exhales
And through thy kisses floods of Lethe flow

So to my doom, henceforward my desire
I shall submit as one predestinate
And like a martyr, calm, immaculate
Whose fervour prods again his flickering pyre

I’ll suck, to drown my hate’s eternal smart
Nepenthe, and good bitter hemlock brew
From the sharp rose-buds of thy breast, anew
Thy breast that never did contain a heart

À mon destin, désormais mon délice
J’obéirai comme un prédestiné
Martyr docile, innocent condamné
Dont la ferveur attise le supplice

Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur
Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

Lethe Lyrics – English Translation

Come on my heart, cruel and deaf soul
Adored tiger, monster with indolent air
I want to dive my trembling fingers
In the thickness of your heavy mane

Come to My Heart, Cold Viper-Soul Malign
Beloved Tiger, Indolent Hydra
Long Will i Drag My Hands Incontainnt
And quivering, through this vast loosed mane of thine

Long Will i Bury Throbing Brow and Head
Among Thy Skirts All Redolent Of Thee
And Breathè, a Blighted Flower of Perfidy
The Fading Odour of My Passion Dead

In your petticoats filled with your perfume
Burst my sore head
And breathe, like a stowed flower
The sweet part of my deceased love

THE SLEEP, NOT LIVE! Lose Myself in Sleep!
In Slumber Soft As Death’s Uncertain Shore
I’ll Sleep and Sow My Drowsy Kisses O’er
THY POLISHED COPPERY ARMS AND BOSOM DEEP

I want to sleep! Sleeping rather than live!
In a sleep as sweet as death
I will let my kisses without remorse
On your beautiful polished body like copper

To engulf my soothing sobs
Nothing is worth the abyss of your layer
Powerful forgetfulness lives on your mouth
And lethal flows in your kisses

THE SLEEP, NOT LIVE! Lose Myself in Sleep!
In Slumber Soft As Death’s Uncertain Shore
I’ll Sleep and Sow My Drowsy Kisses O’er
THY POLISHED COPPERY ARMS AND BOSOM DEEP

To Drown My Sobs and Still My Spirit, O!
No Boon But Thine Abysmal Bed Audits
Poppied Oblivion from Thy Mouth Exhales
AND THROUGH THY Kisses Floods of Lethe Flow

So to my doom, henceforward my desire
I Shall Submit As One Predestination
And like a martyr, calm, immaculate
WHOSE FERVOR PRODS AGAIN HIS FICHERING PYRE

I’ll suck, To Drown My Hate’s Eternal Smart
Nepenthe, And Good Bitter Hemlock Brew
From The Sharp Rose-Buds of Thy Breast, Anew
THY BREAST THAT NEVER DID CONTAIN A HEART

To my destiny, now my delight
I will obey as a predestin
Martyr docile, innocent condemned
Whose fervor fetresses the torture

I’ll sucker, to walnut my reanitor
Nepenthes and good ciguë
Lovely ends of this acute throat
Who has never imprisoned with heart
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

Marche Funèbre Lyrics – Lethe

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From the album:
Herold: Overture To Zampa / Gounod: Funeral March of A Marionette / Thomas: Overture To Mignon
Release Year: 1999