Wolf And Passion - Ulver

Uden Sorrig for det, som svandt
Han drager paa nye & farlig Færd
Hans eeneste Sorrig være at han intet fandt
Som vaer een Taare værdt
Til han Medynk saae
I hendes øine, der alt Lius vaer tendt
Der al Glæde snart vaer endt
Slig een Pige hellig, vacker
Det brustne Blik flacker
Hun kiændte
Han viiger for bendes Blik
Med een smertelig Mystik
Fylder hende mod Hiærtenskiær
Med hendes Ild ligger sort & død
Ondskab qvalte hver een Glød
Dend hviide Gloe, dend slukte han
Men dend ha'r skabt een mæcktig Brand
Aff Had & Elskov & tungindigt Haab
Nyfødt bæres Maanen Frem
Ofver det Sind som her bleff røfved
Aff dend mørcke,
Magi paa hende øfved
Med rædde Skrit. mod ham -
Dybt berørt:
"Du Diefvlens Sendebud,
som bærer Fryckt fra Mand til Brud,
Du Menskehadets reene Styrkedrik,
Du næring for min Siæl, som dør;
Gaae ey bort, o Skygge, før
Ieg viiser Kiændsler som ieg hafvde Angst
For at nære før ieg bleff din Fangst"
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On he hunts with sorrow none
For what hath passed is gone
His sole regret the absence
Of desires worthie his teares
Until he saw pitie in her eyne
Where all the light did shine
And soone all joie should die
Her glazed eyne did wander
A mayden pure in grandeur
Left alone & lost
From her eyne he retreats
Clad in mournfulle Mysterie
He takes her heart in his
But dark & dead is her light
Evil took her fire's breath
Her embers were by him devour'd
And inside of him a fire buildes
Of Hate & Love & Hope so sad
The Moone comes forth
Born anew above her Soule -
Stolen here by the dark,
Binding Magick of olde
Frighten'd she nears him,
And speakes:
Thou, messenger of the Devil,
Who brings fear into lovers' hearts,
Thou, elixir to the hatred of men
And air to my Soule, now dying;
Leave me not, O shadow,
Before I give myself away
To these long denied desires,
Thy gift to my dying heart