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Sorgens Kammer
Minnenes ekko stiller timen
Kneblet i tungsinnets lenker faller jeg ifra
Ikke lenger vil jeg være boltet fast i vemodighetens anker
Men endelig få lengselens slukket - etter å dra
Drakk jeg for meget av livshåpets krus
Tok jeg gledens forfengelighet for gitt
For min strid mot tomhetens smerte - denne dødsangstens rus
Er det eneste ene igjen - som er mitt
I min ensomhet vet jeg likevel
At jeg ikke har noen andre å takke enn meg selv
Derfor er jeg rolig når
Repet strammer rundt min nakke
Stumme viner kan ei gi trøst
Menigmann i gravkorets forsamling vil aldri fatte
Det landet av fortapelse
Jeg egenhendig skapte
Denne intense dragning mot dødens portaler
(Har jeg som) en vandrende studie i gråtkvalt messe-noir
Behersket siden tidens morgen
Men noe jeg aldri lot slippe taket - var sorgen
[english translation:]
[chambers of sorrow part ii]
The echoes of silence sets the hour.
Gagged in the chains of "depression", i fall away.
No more i will be bolted fast in the anchor of "melancholy".
But finally get my longing "fulfilled" - for leaving.
Did i drink too much from the goblet of "lifehope"?
Did i take the vanity of joy for granted?
For my battle against the pain of emptiness - this intoxication of the angst of death,
Is all that is left... that is mine.
In my loneliness i still know,
That i have none to thank but myself.
This is why i remain calm,
As the rope is tightening around my neck.
Silent witnesses can not give comfort.
The ordinary man in the assembly of the "gravechoir".
Tha land of perdition
I created by my own hands.
This intense attraction to the portals of death
(I have as) a wandering study of tearful messe-noir.
Controlled since the dawning of time,
But something i never would let go.. was the sorrow.
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