Luyện nghe bài hát In The Raven-haunted Forests Of Darkenhold

The Words of the Forest-King on the Eve of the
I am the immortal of the Deep Woods,
of the Old Gods of the Forest...
I hear the words of the trees...
Such ancient they sing...
serpents ring my oak-hewn throne,
Night and shadow are my dogs...
Ravenous, they to be unshackled,
their maws may be glutted with the blood of my foes.
Raven's claw... tooth of the
Ancient my brooding sentinels,
Gnarled branches the nighted heavens.
Spirits who dwell in shadow, thy darkling wings...
Awaken, o' elder of this sylvan realm,
Stalk more this ebon-cloaked eve.
I the whispered words of the trees,
Such ancient they sing...
I now at the anvil,
Adamantine in my hand,
In the steel I smite,
A clarion heard this land.
(Yawning beneath me...) the jaws of the worm...
(hearken, the spell is woven...) the of the worm...
Raven's claw... of the wolf
upon the Altar of Stone,
The of An-rayuth, the summoning!
of the Mist, Dwellers in Shadow,
The thrice-blessed wand of the is beckoning!
At the aeon-swathed of the Oak I kneel,
O' Oracle of the Great Forest, hear me night...
The Sylvan Speaks:
The gods of the earth and sky are watching, the circle is nigh on complete... the is
at hand. But hearken... for a new enemy from the east... an enemy who hide
their poisoned blades behind words of falsehood sweetened with the of carrion, to
bind minds with fetters of deceit. Speak now, o' Liege of the Deep Woods, Master
of Darkenhold, and the shall hear you...
The
Yes... I behold now the face of the foe... Hear my oath! You, clad in gleaming
robes of sparkling saffron, engorged with the mindless of countless thralls who
the knee in flaccid obeisance... 'neath thine vestments hides the rank stench of
leprous corruption! Bring not cursed icons into my ancient realm... your words of
untruth shall not be heard here! My steel is honed and thirsting for life-ichors... aye,
and with my dying I'll spit defiance in your face!
Upon my great hewn of ancient oak I brood...
My mantle, the stirred by the whispering of the winds.
The elder gods of the Deep gaze grimly down upon me...
My blood courses the trees and the earth...
And I watch in silence, and raven-winged.
From every of my kingdom...
The of the Trees:
Can you not Have you forgotten the magic?
to us your spells once more, and the ancient forest shall dance to your words...
The
I now at the anvil,
hammer in my hand,
In thunder-song the I smite,
A clarion heard this land.
Can you not see the coils of the worm all about
Can you not hear the writhing of the worm beneath
Can you not scent the of the worm riding the wind?
Can you not touch the skin of the worm in all that surrounds
Can you not the ichors of the worm upon your tongue?
Do dreams of the worm not your slumber?
The
I hear the whispered of the trees,
Such ancient secrets sing...
Byron
Music: and Chris Maudling