1. IL PRIMO CANTO DI PREGHIERA NEL FREDDO SENTIERO DI IRONE

(Instrumental)


2. E IL CUSTODE ACCOGLIEVA CON SÈ CENERE E MORTI

A day of mournful shades
Is stroking those frail bodies
Formely marked
By a heavy fate.
In this age full of disgrace
a tong procession has begun
And remote screams of despair choke
In the ancient course
...Below mount Irone.
Men and women set off
Along the ancient course
And a presence of demise dances above
Leading them towards mount Irone.
The icy soil under the feet…
The rime plays long and gloomy melodies.
Stretch your hand and grab mine
Do you see those black ravens ?
They flap strongly their wings
They are waiting for you...


3. SCORREVA LA VITA NEL POZZO DEI RICORDI

(Instrumental)


4. E CON SÈ TUTTI I LAMENTI, LASCIANDO IL LORO SIGNIFICATO AL TEMPO

A thick mist in this land
With no more talking bodies
Slowly bitten by a tough destiny
Within this house of tombs
My suffering is fated
Within these lanes soaked of their moans
Silent I stay.
You don’t lie in peace
Nobody can’t see
The intimate carcasses that dwell here.
Shade creatures
hold their knotted sticks
And, as old men with weary limbs
Ancient memories wander though my mind…
Silent I stay.


5. DELLE PAROLE RESTAVA IL SILENZIO

La neve cadeva, ma c’era qualcos’altro a invadere l’aria.
Forme solo vagamente umane camminavano sulla bianca coltre,
Ad ogni loro passo delle campanelle tintinnavano.
Il loro suono era un avvertimento, una minaccia, un requiem.
Nessuno era risparmiato. La peste non aveva cuoro,
La peste non aveva anima, la peste non aveva occhi.
La peste divorava e basta.

As a small spider spins its thin web
In a mean corner at a filthy wall
I plot sorrow and anguish
Without rest.
I gather my forces
But I can’t see anything except chasms of thorns
From where hope clambers bleeding
Falling back at every metre.
Below her, long foul ditches defile
Where my narrow dreams creep worn out.
As on the edge of a precipice
I lean forward in order to scan the world
And here make out that nightmare.
I greet mournful my visions
In the immense nothingness
Theatre of my trembling doubt.
Here arrives the sombre
An eternal… Eternal and relentless sombre.


6. E LE MEMORIE SI LIBERARONO NELL’ULTIMO CANTO DI PREGHIERA

(Instrumental)