Theatres Des Vampires — Les Litanies De Satan song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Les Litanies De Satan" by Theatres Des Vampires.
Lyrics
O toi, le plus savant et le plus beau des Anges
Dieu trahi par le sort et prive de louanges
O Prince de l’exil, a qui l’on a fait tort
Et qui, vaincu, toujours te redresses plus fort
Toi qui sais tout, grand roi des choses souterraines
Guerisseur familier des angoisses humaines
Toi qui, meme aux lepreux, aux parias maudits
Enseignes par l’amour le gout du Paradis
O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere!
O toi qui de la Mort, ta vieille et forte amante,
Engendras l’Esperance, — une folle charmante!
Toi qui fais au proscrit ce regard calme et haut
Qui damne tout un peuple autour d’un echafaud
Toi qui sais en quels coins des terres envieuses
Le Dieu jaloux cacha les pierres precieuses
Toi dont l’oeil clair connait les profonds arsenaux
Ou dort enseveli le peuple des metaux
Toi dont la large main cache les precipices
Au somnambule errant au bord des edifices
Toi qui, magiquement, assouplis les vieux os De l’ivrogne attarde foule par les chevaux
Toi qui, pour consoler l’homme frele qui souffre,
Nous appris a meler le salpetre et le soufre
Toi qui poses ta marque, o complice subtil,
Sur le front du Cresus impitoyable et vil
Toi qui mets dans les yeux et dans le coeur des filles
Le culte de la plaie et l’amour des guenilles
Baton des exiles, lampe des inventeurs,
Confesseur des pendus et des conspirateurs
Pere adoptif de ceux qu’en sa noire colere
Du paradis terrestre a chasses Dieu le Pere
Priere
Gloire et louange a toi, Satan, dans les hauteurs
Du Ciel, ou tu regnas, et dans les profondeurs
De l’Enfer, ou, vaincu, tu reves en silence!
Fais que mon ame un jour, sous l’Arbre de Science,
Pres de toi se repose, a l’heure ou sur ton front
Comme un Temple nouveau ses rameaux s’epandront!
Lyrics translation
O you, the most learned and the most beautiful of Angels
God betrayed by fate and deprived of praise
O Prince of Exile, wronged
And who, defeated, always straightens stronger
You who know everything, great king of underground things
Familiar warrior of human anxieties
You who, even the lepers, the Cursed outcasts
Signs by love the Taste Of Paradise
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
O you who Of Death, your old and strong lover,
You beget hope, a charming madwoman!
You who make the outcast look calm and high
Who fucks a whole people around a scaffold
You who know in which corners of the envious lands
The Jealous God hid the precious stones
You whose clear eye knows the deep arsenals
Or sleep buried the people of metals
You whose broad hand hides the precipices
Sleepwalking wandering on the edge of buildings
You who, magically, softened the old bones of the drunken crowd lingers by the horses
You who, to comfort the man frele who suffers,
We learned to meler saltpeter and sulfur
You who set your mark, O subtle accomplice,
On the front of the ruthless and vile Cresus
You who put in the eyes and in the hearts of girls
The cult of the wound and the love of the guenillas
Baton Des exiles, lamp of inventors,
Confessor of hanged and conspirators
Adoptive father of those who in his black anger
From the earthly paradise has God the father driven away
Prayer
Glory and praise to Thee, Satan, in the high places
From Heaven, where you reigned, and in the depths
From Hell, or, defeated, you revel in silence!
Make my soul one day, under the Tree of Science,
Near you rests, on time or on your forehead
Like a new Temple its branches will spread!