Solvitur Ad Elfmuth (ante Bellum) Lyrics - Singles - Nazgul

Extremos orcos scriptos ab copiis 

Septentrionis Kazh-Ran 

Navigii parati erant ad solvendum 

Versus Ruid-Dor sinus Elfmuth 

Theatrum supremi certaminis designatum 

Blasphema caterva ad litus 

Ex collibus ubi appropinquant 

Naves bellicae soloturae 

Intus horum servi suos dominos 

Nigris armant 

Sanguine eorum loricis adversariorum 

Defendentibus eorum 

Aura corpora atra convoluta ac sagis 

Eorum signa ferentibus. 

Nave profecta ornata capitibus principum 

Princeps remigium tempus remorum 

Pulsu metitur nanorum 

Qui a Roze-El ducti 

Templum Eldril destruxerunt 

Arcanorum artium peritissimi 

Nunc cruore manant strigitu 

Mille scuticarum quae eorum 

Duram cutem lacerant. 

Et eorum dolor, aegritudo, sudori, sanguinis 

Permixtus lembum propellit 

I portum argentatum quo sol 

Iam lassus se conduit. 

Omnia parata ad proelio sunt... tympana 

Metiuntur magna itinera orcorum 

Ac hominum deformum pugnae aviditate 

Cupiditate sola contentionis 

Ordine procedunt sub caelo cinereo onusto odiis 

Sicut domini impiarum animarum 

[THEY SAIL TOWARDS ELFMUTH (BEFORE WAR)] 

When the last ogres were recruited 

By the troops of north Kazh-Ran 

The warships where readied to set towards Ruid-Dor, 

Heart of Elmuth, designated as the theatre of the last battle. 

A blasphemous horde, from the hills, 

Goes to the coast where the warship are ready. 

Inside, the servants 

Arm their lords with armours 

Now black for the blood of their enemies 

And protecting their bodies 

Wrapped by a black breeze 

And mantles bringing their insignia. 

Sailed the warships 

Adorned by the skulls 

Of the contrary princes 

The scout stresses the time of the row of the prisoners dwarfs 

Who destroyed Eldril's temple 

Master of mysterious arts, 

Who now are bleeding at the sound of thousand whips 

Which tear their skin and pain and suffering; 

The blood mixed with sweat pushes 

The ship towards a silver sea where a tired 

Sun plunged. 

Everything is ready for the battle 

The tympanums stress the forced march of ogres 

And trolls 

Eager for fighting just for pleasure. 

They parade under a grey sky 

Full of hatred like the Damned's Master.