My Dying Bride - Vanité Triomphante Lyrics
I often hunt you in my dreams,But your wicked claw awaits me,Aboard this snow-lit island,Veins like tortured winter trees,'Tis the service of my hand,That silence climbs upon thee.You are sweet and fine to listen to!Long tresses about your neck,Yet much is false.This mighty evening,I've seen no face.This is crushing me.My quill it aches.And old ships die like swans,Against our frozen icy shore,Pass your dying body,I leave you in your thoughtsTrees dance and failTell them I cameMy beauty paleWas yours the same?Viens, il est temps de partirJe vais regretter ta haineTa vainte triomphanteFera sa reverenceI laid them in booksJust your heart and mineFor lovers to readThe lonely to pineThrough my broken skinAnd cherry tree bloodThe real world falls inA false life of love