Farsotstider

Thyrfing


Blodet strömmar frÄn blottade ryggar
I ett botgörartÄg mot ett oblitt öde
Flagellanternas hungrande ödesvrÄl
Ekar högt i en klagande jÀmmerdom

[Chorus:]
Ty prygel skall sjungas som botande psalm
I olycksbringande farsotstider
Den fagra men oblida pesten skall kurera oss
En spegelbild av ett gisslartÄg
I olycksbringande farsotstider
Askan ska strös i vinden pÄ den svarta dödens gÀstabud

FrÄn stad till stad, frÄn by till by
En vördnad visas piskan och dess folk
Deras framförvarande ödesvrÄl
Ekar högt i en klagande jÀmmerdom

[Repeat chorus]

Pastore inscio -- i socknens dödsbok blott tomma blad
Sista vilan har kommit, feber och smÀrtor har gÄtt i grav
Pastore inscio -- All ömkan och elÀnde nu förbytts
Sista vilan har kommit, i samklang allting ekat ut
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English Translation:

Times of Plague

The blood is flowing from bare backs
In a proccession of penance towards an unfavourable destiny
The flagellants' hungering roars
Echo loudly in a woeful lamentation

[Chorus:]
For scourge shall be sung as a remedying hymn
In woebringing times of plague
The fair but unfavourable plague shall cure us
The mirror-image of a procession of scourges
In woebringing times of plague
The ash shall be sprinkled with the wind in the feast of the Black Death

From town to town, from village to village
Reverence is shown to the whip and it's people
Their next wave of roars
Echo loudly in a woeful lamentation

[Repeat chorus]

Pastore inscio -- in the parishes book of death only empty pages
The last rest has come, fever and pains has passed into the grave
Pastore inscio -- All pity and misery now changed
The last rest has come, in unison everything echoes out

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