AMARANTH SO PUISSANT ACT I: The Planting (words by Callus and Borg) Open up to my lustre And receive my radiant seed. I am dream yet I'm struggle, I'll set you ablaze with a grace yet not yours/mine Shower unto me Pour over me thy silence from darkness Melt over me thy sweet intoxication As I am now bound through this virtual copulation Of a prodigal dream around my cerebral universe. This Grand Guignol that returns as belligerent, A coup de théâtre so loving in plenitude. Oh fortress of my frailty, why choose my sand for your bastions? To reach me of euphrasy, together we'll sing this eulogy! Ensconce me with your discipline for me to reach your shores of gold. Have you to travel dogged and have you to dissent? Whether truthful may I ask? I am the zenith of your instinct, the everest to your show of zest. I reckon you are distraught - Come, open up, let me leave you not vagrant. I am the Art!!! Where art thou, Art? Thou art gone and will not answer, Thou hast shaped me with thy Golconda - Hope 'tis not an eclipse to darken my heart, For at times your speech befalls my silent naivety But soon shrink thou in the haze clouding my mind. Nay, nay, look inside To grasp that by which makes thee be. Nay, nay, never I hide Dig deep in thyself to set me free. Oh please hetaera hide no longer Grant me your moire, Stay by my side, guide me! Once I thought you'll be the light ahead of me. CHORUS: I'm the zenith of the instinct, Everest to the zest. This ought to be distraught, Oh not to end vagrant. I'm the absicht of existence Amaranth to the soul A nisus grown lethargic; Let me elucidate your ennui. REPEAT CHORUS Thou! ... Thine sweet melodies to many But very few thine strength. This! ... This makes my heart grieve Intrinsic as thy art for me Abscond not from my strives. So let it shine this vibrant heat afar And across this gazebo of lilly-white, a nectar in plight! Abashed have I to be to avouch your arras. Dole not oh chimerial, my canticle's nay to be your chagrin! Oh chaste chrone, you grant me love yet even gnaw As I daub on your canvas and splatter my poesy. Why have I to gain your price at my bedlam? Why has this to be for thee to last? Will thy last more than my house, my ivy home by the digger? Will new autumns shed my feverish request? Thou art a coup de main, A petulant rocket that darts back to my heart. My emotions can't I keep privy For your philtre so puissant grabs me still. I so promiscious, thou so priggish Ardous land far, why this satiety, Will I rest a sap in my shroud? I am the Art, From inside of you I radiate, Have been, am, and shalt I be The preacher of thee and what have thy been When they sign the echidion at the gates And sing your epicidium with their false grace I shall radiate again By your bedlam, oh distraught, the force your receipt Made me gain!!! ACT II: (Death) When Petals Fall (a free adaption from "La Mort Des Artistes" by Charles Baudelierre) Combien faut -il de fois secouer mes grelots Et baisser ton front bas morne caricature Pour piquer dans le but, de mystique nature Combien o mon carquois perdre de javelots Noius userons notre ame en de subtils complots Et nous demolirons mainte lourde armature Avant de contempler la grande creature Dont l’infernal desir nous remplit de sanglots! Il en est qui jamais n’ont connu leur Idole Et ces sculpteurs damnes et marques d’un afront Qui vont se martelant la poitrine et le front N’ont qu’un espoir etrange et sombre Capitole! C’est que la Mort plannat comme un soleil nouveau Fera s’espanouir les fleurs de leur cervaus! ACT III : (Hope) Spring in my Garden (words by Callus & Debattista) I am the gypsy sun, Oh nomad in the desert receive me as your star! Steal and dress me in your linen If I act to your disguise. Feed and grant the other ear with the aesthetic it implies. Hey, hey, trovator!! Lasciami riempirti di quella Fiducia che gl' altri in te hanno Che tu fuocerai come il sole. Hey, hey, trovator!! Emani quella luce che ora e` in te, E il tuo splendore gl' abbagliera La luce accenante nell’oscurita. Thine so puissant, So loving and caring I'd die to Twist still in thy arms, Thy golden embrace my only shade of grace! They who say mine is a disgrace Them have not yet tasted thy sweet buds; Them are the ones with a lack of caress, Them look not ahead, they lack much of hope. So let it shine this vibrant heat afar And across this gazebo of lillywhite, a nectar in plight! ACT IV : (The Ever-after) Rise up High this Bouquet! (words by Callus, Debattista & Borg) I, blossom, lucid potion Drop upon you my ever seeds, Let me twist if this is for you Let my scent air as I breed And enchant these mere men Seduce them with my fragrance. "Reveal thyself, thine innard passions By thine creations I victoriously shine!" Rise up high this bouquet, Reap the ribbon to reveal This pure art by pack of wolves - Oasis that flows into our Blood In a chalice of flesh Driven by the unearthly Quest for everglitter feel. High on the wind of a destiny unsculptured, Mine is the breeze that will keep thine heart cultured! In this flight Our ears collected Blissful everdawn refulgent sunrise. Place your wand upon us wizard And entrance us in your cave of spell, Mystic ever aesthetic Blast our drums with thy hammer! I’m the zenith of the instinct, Everest to the zest. This ought to be distraught, Oh not to end vagrant. I’m the absicht of existence Amaranth to the soul A nisus once letarghic. Elucidated your ennui is! Amaranth so puissant (Is this) Blood In a chalice of flesh Driven by the unearthly Quest for everglitter feel. Rise up high this bouquet! That by which I call thee Art, Is that by which same, thou may shed to tears!