歌曲 | To these words I behold no tongue |
歌手 | Theatre of Tragedy |
专辑 | Platinum Edition |
作词 : Rohonyi ... | |
Whether the throned Monarch weareth the crown, | |
Which I know not whether to his belongeth; | |
Doth he hence the sceptre sway? | |
Seasoneth he justice? - | |
Daresay I he doth not, | |
Will he then use his sceptre as a wand? - | |
Where doth sit my awe? - Trieth me conjure; | |
Perchance a spell?; a reptile, a sullied hound? - | |
Is the gentle rain a quality of his? - | |
I bethink this fro my thoughts; hitherto, about this, | |
I beheld to these words no tongue; are the | |
Monarch's men his thralls or his servants? - | |
Oft I waylay my tongue - | |
Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart not heed'd; | |
Or doth the throstle sing with more glee | |
At daybreak than than a twilight? - | |
Brawl not my imp, nor my cherub; reserve my judgement - | |
Crave not the sword when the bodkin fro ere thine is; | |
That undiscover'd country; be that | |
Of calamity, be that of joy, be that of apathy; | |
Tread not paths of new when those of old are | |
Far by an only single footstep; walk, be it | |
On the left, on the right - be it the one which | |
Straight forward leadeth; the one of correct | |
I have as until now not heed'd any signs of! |
zuò cí : Rohonyi ... | |
Whether the throned Monarch weareth the crown, | |
Which I know not whether to his belongeth | |
Doth he hence the sceptre sway? | |
Seasoneth he justice? | |
Daresay I he doth not, | |
Will he then use his sceptre as a wand? | |
Where doth sit my awe? Trieth me conjure | |
Perchance a spell? a reptile, a sullied hound? | |
Is the gentle rain a quality of his? | |
I bethink this fro my thoughts hitherto, about this, | |
I beheld to these words no tongue are the | |
Monarch' s men his thralls or his servants? | |
Oft I waylay my tongue | |
Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart not heed' d | |
Or doth the throstle sing with more glee | |
At daybreak than than a twilight? | |
Brawl not my imp, nor my cherub reserve my judgement | |
Crave not the sword when the bodkin fro ere thine is | |
That undiscover' d country be that | |
Of calamity, be that of joy, be that of apathy | |
Tread not paths of new when those of old are | |
Far by an only single footstep walk, be it | |
On the left, on the right be it the one which | |
Straight forward leadeth the one of correct | |
I have as until now not heed' d any signs of! |