1. |
Hinthial
06:53
|
|
||
2. |
|
|||
Auri sacra fames
by few imagined, by majority derided,
here is what you deserve,
from a long time of raping, exploiting
and assuming yourself as a Prometheus.
Your wings are now melted,
the arms severed, but the hunger
still to be satisfied, although after an Eternity of dyspepsia.
Crippled being! Rotten, putrid soul!
You, who can only ejaculate betrayal and venoms.
Exhausted blood, that even worms would disgust,
flows richly out and escapes from your digits
and orifices.
A feast of corrosive aridity.
Congesto pauper in auro
the gold now transformed into lava and plague,
your abundance.
You, god/scarecrow by ten worlds!
Veins are about to explode everywhere,
while hordes of owl-faced demons riding black wolves
are breaking apart the soil and spitting rivers of spiders
Acherontia Atropos are singing in celebration
on the roof of the temple. The ceremony begins.
A paralytic King Midas is leading,
and the chained mass of humans,
prone to blind adoration,
is preying while vultures are devouring their entrails.
The altar is in flame. The windows crumble.
Dead empty vast oceans cross the lowermost threshold.
Etiam periere ruinae.
|
||||
3. |
Ixaxaar
21:56
|
|
||
In the sunshine after the rain
the mystic woods seem to darken around me,
and the silver grey ancient bridge,
brings me to unearthly mirages.
A hissing jargon awakened me,
aghast spectator of an antediluvian terror.
Chthonic beings entering reality,
pernicious untold sermons
by grinding teeth and tongue-vomiting yells.
Former humans writhing
like wounded blind-worms,
pushing out wavering tentacles
from their unravelled carcasses,
a pestilential snake-like scent in the air.
My heart is near to implode,
for I have just felt the chill of Death
and that shapeless, formless
dread of the unknown,
endlessly worse than Death itself.
But the ebony portal is awaiting
Vestigia nulla retrorsum.
My destiny is beyond the gate,
into the charming strident void.
Farewell!
Respice finem.
I, and the longed secrets of the ancient seal
drowned beneath the oceans
and buried into the heart of the hills.
Beware of the shrouded Ancestors!
|
THACLTHI Volterra, Italy
THACLTHI, from the Liber Linteus Zagrabiensis, means "in silence" in Etruscan language. We are not at all affiliated with heathen/pagan/epic metal stuff (the logo is not written in Runes but in Etruscan). Nonetheless we are neither an “Etruscan concept band”. ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like THACLTHI, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp