TOMODACHIS!
La verdad es que el dia ( si le falta acento y que!) de hoy fue no se raro, y me siento algo Pessimiste, asi que aqui va la traduccion leanla con mucha atencion por que es una cancion maravillosa. Pessimiste de Moi Dix Mois (viene en el cd de Dix infernal) Pessimiste cruel Pessimiste ,
to conceive, shadow of melancholy.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
that of delusion and reality, to pressingly approach, that of despair, 
Pessimiste of the dominion,
satirical theatrical of pretense.
the dream that flaps its wings,
toward the direction of oblivion, 
even the cruel reality [dream],
the bird that cannot fly, toward the direction of incandescence ,
the cruel dream [the present], everything .
dancing madness,
cruel Pessimiste,
to conceive, shadow of melancholy.
the dream that flaps its wings,
toward the direction of oblivion,
even the cruel reality,
the bird that cannot fly, toward the direction of incandescence.
cruel...
fluttering wings, toward collapse, toward you...
even the transient dream,
controlled by the cruel false god.
the birds which cannot fly.
Supongo que hay momentos en los que te das cuenta de que ya no es posible seguir, que las cosas ya no son viables que no hay nada que te siga dando fuerzas, que de pronto el corazón pende de un delgado hilo tejido of all, there are times when you see as your dignity will dissolve into what many insist on calling love and I call folly
all of the pain, the destiny
events runs away loving the color of the
time fades, withers pain.
to whisper, the last word
Pessimiste of the dominion, satirical theatrical of pretense.
the dream that flaps its wings,
toward the direction of oblivion, even the cruel reality [dream], the bird that cannot fly, toward the direction of incandescence ,
the cruel dream [the present], everything .
dancing madness,
cruel Pessimiste,
to conceive, shadow of melancholy. the dream that flaps its wings,
toward the direction of oblivion,
even the cruel reality,
the bird that cannot fly, toward the direction of incandescence.
cruel...
fluttering wings, toward collapse, toward you...
even the transient dream,
controlled by the cruel false god.
the birds which cannot fly.
Supongo que hay momentos en los que te das cuenta de que ya no es posible seguir, que las cosas ya no son viables que no hay nada que te siga dando fuerzas, que de pronto el corazón pende de un delgado hilo tejido of all, there are times when you see as your dignity will dissolve into what many insist on calling love and I call folly all of the pain, the destiny events runs away loving the color of the
time fades, withers pain.
to whisper, the last word
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment