Альбом Borknagar

Amongst the elements, I surrender on eternity's behalf
The soil on which I walk, the air in which I talk
The drop I swallowed, the fire I followed
- is the circling direction of time, the vague line of existence

The earth defines my synergy, the mountains refines me energy
The fire clouds my distant view, the flame erupts my fiery due
To Mother Earth

The ocean mirrors my purpose, the rain affirms my goals
The air shrouds my presence, the wind reveals my existence

(Oystein G. Brun, January 2005)

The grains of my solid roots
Go deep into the youth of existence
They mirror the path of my forefathers
Through the winter way alone
To mount and rove- to evolve

As the sun, the very one
Enlightened the road I found
Along the grains of ages
The roots of my being
Projects all that you are seeing...

(Oystein G. Brun, March 2005)

Deify the depths of intimate caprice
The noble morsel of the grand eternity
Face the furious and black domain
From where all the wisdom once came
As a weak and stunning flare
Yet so completed and clear

In the eyes of the elementary existence
May the fallen of eternity explode
As primal instincts of devotion
Where the seeds of chaos blow
Where the almighty substance flow

When the oceans rise
And thunder calls
The shape of furious manners fall
Where the oceans rise

Between dimensions asunder
The maze of fragmented flare
Harvest the pain of the will and despair
Where the seeds of chaos grow
Where the almighty substance bow

Milleniums are falling
Milleniums are calling
Hail!
The dawn of a new era

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Again
The empty room
White and unmarked,
though touched
With a sensible structure
Underneath the surface
Hiding in the corner of the eye
Or resting right outside the field of vision
No doors or windows
No entrances or exits
Only bright light
Forming a shining empire
Of electrical impulses
Never to leave the premises
Never to be caught
Only sensed

(Lars A. Nedland, February 2005)

Stellar flames create formations,
Lucent constellations and invitations to the expeditious mind
Novas that see our destination
From their hibernation, a vocation that is enshrined

I'm navigating along the star path
The night sky is my compass, my cynosure
After days with waves of wrath
I'm finally reaching the shores
Under the burning Atlas

A region filled with flaring birthmarks
Over ageing landmarks and the hallmarks of Nature's grand form
Yonder, still in our respiration
And mother to rotation, gravitation that endlessly performs

(Vintersorg, May 2006)

As a slave to differential rotation,
you cannot escape before eons have passed
As a servant to progression's motivation,
you won't leave until the future is the past

As a product of what we call inventions,
we cannot run before we can walk
As a victim of a myriad of intentions,
we must learn to think before we talk

Swept in the circles of endless repetition
Trapped in orbit around microscopic riddles

The answer's echo eliminates the question
Our unnatural nature keeps rotating between two cradles

(Asgeir Mickelson, January 2006)

Symbiosis is my guiding force
Like the wind against the window I adapt my course
One moment a firm wall of traditions
The next an exploding substance of variations

When the weather changes, so do I
To contrast I am a slave
As the oceans alters, so do I
A thousand faces for every wave

Acclimation: in the shape of a human
Adaptation: governed by blood and sun

(Vintersorg, December 2004)

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