Vanité Triomphante

Текст песни My Dying Bride - Vanité Triomphante

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 thoughts

Trees dance and fail
Tell them I came
My beauty pale
Was yours the same?

Viens, il est temps de partir
Je vais regretter ta haine
Ta vanité triomphante
Fera sa révérence
I laid them in books
Just your heart and mine
For lovers to read
The lonely to pine

Through my broken skin
And cherry tree blood
The real world falls in
A false life of love