Nokturnal Mortum
								To The Gates Of Blasphemous Fire 

Bestial Summoning 
To The Gates Of Blasphemous Fire 
On The Moonlight Path 
The Hands Of Chaos 
Под Знаменами Рогатого Князя 
The 13th Asbath Celebration 
Черемош 
The Forgotten Ages Of Victories 


Bestial Summoning 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The edge of continuity for dream and reality. Shaman is dancing his dance of death; the masks of the demons
surrounding me. This is my wedding ritual that gives the violence. The fog of the night, the dark water... to run through
the expanse of light. The mysteries of civilizations that left the Earth more of ten times return to me; it gives no repose
to me again and again. Standing in the forest and seeing the atrocities... all is inside me, and it comes back in the
dreams. The shaman dances, the masks are waiting for its demon. The knife is in my hand. The fog... will never crawl
away. My words are devoured by the bestial of silence and invisible chains shackle my moves. The dream continues it's
gush to reality and the shaman drums louder the rhytm to his dance of death. 


To The Gates Of Blasphemous Fire 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The day is (always) going away and (the) night covers the children of coldness and darkness by it's screen. The
frozen flame (in) wrath tears the fetters... The thirst is free and the rivers of blood flow to the unknown. Death opens
it's gates and the victims fall down to its scarlet lake. The ancient cults of bloods that give the pleasure to the children of
the nightmares and cruel reality. The awesome castle stands where the flesh is worth a life; the blood and the rage
unleashed by the master of the night is inside. The star drops down its light through the gallow loop, as nightflower
grows in the appointed place. One who tasted its bitterness will get immortality, and the master will dip him into the
stormy waters of blood and chaos. The moon drops down the tears of light weeping for the great forests. Its gladness is
expressed in these drops of silence and paradoxical eminence. Ancient master! Give the power to the children of
nightmares and take their gifts. And they'll come to your gates (that are) widely opened for them... power, eminence,
immortality, blood, death and chaos. The castle! The great castle! The shelter for the ones who eternally search and
find chaos. In it those who give the true history to the world and take the stillness from it... We are on our road. The
blood is flowing, the heaven is on fire, we are awaited by chaos... to the gates of blasphemous fire! 


On The Moonlight Path 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

Go away day, give everything to the queen of the night laying in the cold land and waiting for the full-moon (to
come). I see the leaving of life as a sweet dream. My way is stretching into the abyss of eternity. I don't try to hold for
this life, it's damned by me, and the spirit of Carpathians call my black soul to the moonlight path. The dawn - the dusk.
The cycle is over for me. The sun is twisted by the soars and it's painful for me to look at it. Oh! My sweet queen of the
night you gave me the sence of life you gave me my eternal pleasure. I acquired the true vampiric art. I'm on the
moonlight path. Hey stars! Greet me! Do you hear me... the moon! The tombstones are singing to me and the throne of
the damned belongs to death. I celebrate the great joy together with the wolves. I dance inside the circle of snakes and
marsh of reptiles. I'm indifferent to everything because I chosse my path. Blood! I swallow it. It spreads inside me like
bitterness and indifference in the world of true lies. I was ruined and humiliated in a world where I've been
misunderstood. Through my teeth I talk about revenge. The world will remember my name. The moonlight path that
takes my soul. I'll take these useless souls one by one. Your temples will burn like candles, the children and your women
will moan with pain. Your houses will hide in blood by which I'll wash my face playing with the moonrays on my path; on
my moonlight path. I scorn you sheep. I scorn your flock. To be your shepherd is my fate. Bringing your souls for the
sacrifice to my God. I'll feed the wolves by your mortal bodies. Death and chaos - all will be here, and nobody else will
see the day and the sun (again). Therefore, I'm on the moonlight path. Oh! World! I'll dance on your grave. 


The Hands Of Chaos 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth, Saturious / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

To be the God - to be the Man, to be the power - not to be a slave. To be the Fire - to be the Hell, to be the Ice - not
to be the wave. To be the Chaos - to be the Blackness, to be the Moon - not to be the Sun. To be the Night - to be the
Darkness, to be the Blood - not to be the Fear. The hands of Chaos, the heaven is burning. I spit on it... my last
sacrifice. The dark vails hide our faces, in bloody dreams I hear the breath of woods. To be the Dusk, to be the Dawn,
to be the Free, to be the Spawn. High grass stretches its top to the Moon, it's burried in the grass among the deep
forest. The crack of trees is like the harmony of nature that makes me listen to the silence. I hear the silence. I see the
night, my hands are cold like the breath of winter. The blood doesn't run through these veins, it left my body. The
wounds don't disturb and pain is gone. The darkness is eternal! And life of the master of blackness is immortal! The
hands of Chaos on the burned heaven ashes. In my last sacrifice my immortality has been born. To be the Thunder - to
be the Eminence, to be the Silence - to be the Grave, to be the Sword - to be the War, to be the peace - to be the shit.
To be the bird - to be the sky, to be the cloud - to be the immortal, to be the God - to be the Man, to be the Power - to
be the God, to be the Chaos. 


Под Знаменами Рогатого Князя 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

Где был рассвет - теперь закат. Где солнце было - ночь настала. В хрустальном взгляде
воцарился ад, сквозь мрак тумана сердце биться перестало. И в пламени струящейся
крови сон грезится сквозь раны. Внутри тумана прах Земли, вокруг него... паденье со скалы в
пучину пропасти бездонной, я вижу ад - хозяин старины ведёт меня туда безмолвно сквозь
бренность ветхой седины. Кровавой лентой судьба связала руки, безропотно вонзила мне
кинжал в живот. Богиня ночи обрекает день на муки, звезда в падении может быть живой. В моей
крови всех змей болотных яд, в висках стучит бой наковален. Мечи войны готовит ад. Небесный
трон могилой станет. Рогатый Князь, одетый в бронь стальную, вонзил свой меч в крылатого
небесного "бойца". Я в войске Ада, я Азазел, я Белиал, я Ктулу. Я демоны, я Сет, я Господин, я воин
Зла. Мне Люцифер открыл глаза на этот мир, погрязший в суете. Пронзит насквозь его
свирепая гроза кровавой молнией, живущей в высоте. 


The 13th Asbath Celebration 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth, Saturious / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The bitterness was born in a soul thrusting the Atame into sacrifice, the "Book Of Shadows" is opened, we're
waiting for the full-moon's arrival - we're celebrating the thirteen Asbath. I lift my eyes. I look at the moonrise, the
Goddess of the night takes my gifts. You came to us through your immortality, attach us to the true craft. Give us the
power, give us the great understanding. I draw the magic circle by my baton, and the skull of the deer on its top starts
to light. Oh Moon, the great mother! Protectress of our destines and secret intentions. Fly up and light our deeds by
your limpid light. Thrust your sharp rays into the Earth. We're absorbing the full-moon power - this is the thirteen
Asbath. Let the blood of the sacrificed flow into your heart. The bowls in the priestess hands are filled with water -
chaos that symbolizes the Moon and rules by it. Oh Moon, the great mother, we're absorbing your power - this is the
thirteen Asbath. Naked our bodies we gash in the long-lasting dance, going around the circle repeatedly against the
moving of the sun. The nature is singing and delighting - we're celebrating the thirteen Asbath. Marble moon give us
the power. Our bodies are stewing and poison draught is ready. Our circle is unbreakable, we're embraced by the only
ecstasy. The wine runs through our veins and our joy is gifted to darkness. On the mountain taps, on the tops of the
trees - everywhere you look is the Great our Mother - Moon. 

Черемош 
Инструментальная 


The Forgotten Ages Of Victories 
(Music: Knjaz Varggoth / Lyrics: Knjaz Varggoth)

The thunder of the drums is heard and cattle herds are driving back. Sunset is driving near. The beat of hoofs - all
around melt away in the shaggy beard of great and wise elder sunset. The forests and the mountains surrounding the
village he covers by golden cloth - the night is drawing near. Bonfires blaze up and the flame tongues raise up to blacken
sky-like hands. The hearers faces are visible through the flame. The greyhaired elder opens the secret stories of his past,
through night and fire his words again find the youth. His face covered with wrinkles like the waterless earth shined
with life as in his youth. And his tale was drifted through the time to distant faraways of those days. When the steel was
like continuation of the hand and the warriors were not affraid of their enemies power - then moon was shining
brighter and sun warmed more times than nowadays. The forest has been lighted by thousands of bonfires, it have
been seen that celebration has begun, and singing drowned the noise of the wind but (the) elder continued his tale.
When the valor and the honor was valued over the lie and hypocrisy, when the pride and the eminence was valued over
the slavery and the cowardice. The enemies cities and villages were on fire! Blood and death, screams and mourns - Hell
came out! The honor and the praise to power. The beat of hoofs and crunch of steel, the scythe of death flied over this
field, eyes were looking into eyes and heavens were on fire! The warriors heart melted and tears appeared in the old
eyes - the tears of the real master. His hand is clenched in the fist, the teeth was gritted as that time, the ages of
victories are over. It's now time to wait. No sooner that the sun get out of confinement and the first rays let the birds
know that the day had come. No sooner that the herds were driving on the pasture the hair of the old warrior was
streaming by the breeze. He'd been looking at the faraways and didn't find that the celebration was over. His thoughts
were with those far times. Like a cold shudder passed through his skin. He rose and returned back to his house not left
by the memories about those distant times. The honor and the praise to power! The forgotten ages of victories.