Luyện nghe bài hát Le Suzerain Des âmes En Peine

In a he cherished illusions,
Gloomy premonitions of a storm,
His hatred without respite,
by the suffering, the screams and the shocks
Of these lower creatures who sleep dreaming.
As this far and diaphanous star flood the with its misty light,
I see the frightened wandering through the swamps,
of a funeral lord.
The sharp flicks of the hoofs blend with the long of agony,
With the eternal lamentations of the Morpheus,
Captive of an invisible dungeon from which he was the master.
The flutes measure of this hunt,
no blood will soil,
A requiem of a dance.
Any will come to clear the profane wound,
And its essence will the sign forever,
Invisible but primordial at the of the Last,
of the suffering souls,
THE KING, ON THE THRONE OF