Wśród traw
The track opens in an energetic, ritualistic Slavic folk style with a dark, pagan and occult atmosphere. Traditional instruments—acoustic guitar, frame drums, overtone drones, and sorrowful high-pitched violin—set a trance-like rhythm. A male warrior choir chants “grom”, “buża” in a deep, percussive cadence, evoking ancient rites. Baritone vocals follow, whispered or softly sung. This purely acoustic, ceremonial folk section continues until the first refrain. At the refrain, the style shifts sharply into technical, symphonic progressive black metal at 240 BPM. Tremolo-picked distorted guitars, double-kick drums, and cinematic orchestral brass and strings explode into the mix. Vocals remain clean but dramatic, supported by massive harmonized choir. The arrangement becomes dense, fast, and overwhelming, while retaining ritualistic tension. No folk instruments return. Final choruses and instrumentals reach maximum intensity, then collapse into a solemn, fading orchestral outro.
Wśród traw
The track opens in an energetic, ritualistic Slavic folk style with a dark, pagan and occult atmosphere. Traditional instruments—acoustic guitar, frame drums, overtone drones, and sorrowful high-pitched violin—set a trance-like rhythm. A male warrior choir chants “grom”, “buża” in a deep, percussive cadence, evoking ancient rites. Baritone vocals follow, whispered or softly sung. This purely acoustic, ceremonial folk section continues until the first refrain. At the refrain, the style shifts sharply into technical, symphonic progressive black metal at 240 BPM. Tremolo-picked distorted guitars, double-kick drums, and cinematic orchestral brass and strings explode into the mix. Vocals remain clean but dramatic, supported by massive harmonized choir. The arrangement becomes dense, fast, and overwhelming, while retaining ritualistic tension. No folk instruments return. Final choruses and instrumentals reach maximum intensity, then collapse into a solemn, fading orchestral outro.
Lyrics
Wśród traw
omdlały leżę
bezwładnie —
jak senny staw.
Czarne więcierze
czyhają na dnie
i każda żywa
myśl tam przepadnie,
wola spoczywa
w zaroślach na dnie.
Czy sen?
dzikie widziadła —
gromada hien
umarłą duszę
kręgiem obsiadła.
Krew płynie z żył —
lecz słodko znoszę katusze —
i śnię — żem kiedyś dawno — żył.
W obojętności
bujnych pokoszonych traw —
idę do Boga —
wśród kolumn czarnych wieczności.
A złota rosa na twarz moją pada.
I wstrząsa dreszcz.
Czarne chmurzyska,
jako bawołów pędzących stada —
tysiące krwawych oczu błyska.
I kataraktą lunął deszcz.
To sen mnie łudzi —
to nad grobem wyje
oślepła skarga —
ja głaz myślący — nie żyję.
— — — — — — — —
Grom budzi!
— — — — — — — —
Wichrem sieczony —
nad grzywą rumaka
porywam mocnemi ramiony
piorun —
i skrzydła swe rozwijam ptaka.
Nad morze!
nad lśniące,
gwiazdami usiane morze —
za purpurowe góry
w czarne, głębokie niebiosa.
--- 🇬🇧 ---
Among the grass
I lie —
limp,
like a dream-lost pond.
Black leeches
wait below,
and every living thought
sinks and vanishes.
My will
sleeps in the reeds.
Is it a dream?
Wild phantoms —
a pack of hyenas
circle my dead soul.
Blood flows from my veins —
yet I endure the pain sweetly —
and dream
that once, long ago, I lived.
In the indifference
of lush, trampled grass
I walk toward God
through black pillars
of eternity.
Golden dew
falls on my face.
A shiver strikes.
Black clouds,
like stampeding buffalo,
flash a thousand bloody eyes.
Then the sky collapses —
a cataract of rain.
The dream deceives me —
or is it a blind lament
howling over my grave?
I am a thinking stone —
and I am dead.
— — — — — — — —
Thunder awakens!
— — — — — — — —
Whipped by wind,
on the mane of a wild horse
I rise —
and seize lightning
with burning arms,
unfolding my wings
like a bird of flame.
Toward the sea!
Toward the shining sea,
strewn with stars —
beyond the purple mountains —
into the deep, black heavens.