Bethzaida — Epistel Nr. 30: Drick Ur Ditt Glas song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Epistel Nr. 30: Drick Ur Ditt Glas" by Bethzaida.
Lyrics
Drick ur ditt glas, se doden pa dig vantar,
Slipar sitt svard och vid din troskel star.
Bliv ej forskrackt, han blott pa gravdorn glantar,
Slar den igen, kanske an pa ett ar.
Movitz, din lungsot den drar dig i graven.
Knapp nu oktaven:
Stam dina strangar, sjung om livets var!
Himmel, du dor, din hosta mig forskracker;
Tomhet och klang, inalvorna ge ljud;
Tungan ar vit, det radda hjartat klacker,
Mjuk som en svamp ar sena, marg och hud.
Andas! — Fy tusan, vad dunst ur din aska!
Lan mig din flaska!
Movitz, gutar! Skal! Sjung om vinets gud!
Na sa gutar! Dig Bacchus avsked bjuder,
Fran Frojas tron du sista vinken far.
Omt till dess lov det lilla blodet sjuder,
Som nu med vald ur dina adror gar.
Sjung, las och glom, tank, begrat och begrunda!
Skull' du astunda
Annu en falsup? Vill du do? — Nej, gutar!
Lyrics translation
Drink from your glass, see the death on you mittens,
Grinds his answer and at your troskel star.
Be not searched, he only glances at the grave Tower,
Turn it again, maybe in a year.
Movitz, you lungsot it pulls you to the grave.
Now button octave:
Strain your strangers, sing about the whereabouts of life!
Heaven, you dor, your cough me forskracker;
Emptiness and timbre, innalves give sound;
The tongue is white, the radda hjartat klacker,
Soft as a sponge is tendon, marrow and skin.
Breathe! - Oh, my God, that's out of your ashes!
Lan me your bottle!
Movitz, gutar! Shell! Sing about the God of wine!
Na sa gutar! It's on you Bacchus,
From Froja's throne you last wave father.
OMT till praiseworthy the little blood seething,
As now with selected from your adror gar.
Sing, las and glom, tank, Bury and ponder!
Skull ' du astunda
Annu a falsup? Do you want to do? - No, gutar!