Текст песни The Mission (Old Season) с переводом

The autumn’s vice on dregs of life has past

While roundabout the hills the snow drives fast

The mercenary slips his lair

And grappled in his hands there bears

The solitary hope of nations thralled

Wherefore comes this titan of men?

The seas lie in wait for his ships of stealth

'Cross monstrous waves of seething crests

And ocean vales of uneasy rest

Ne’er terror nor lust shall ever waylay

Tempestuous gales these masts will outstand

And hold steadfast 'til death or land

Ferried aloft the standard’s face is revealed

And borne upon the winds of a godless zeal

He forges on through the perpetual dark

And closes in on the ancient ark

Where the fame of erstwhile heroes’s stored

And all cherished tales of battlelore

The sceptre wrench’d from the master’s hand

Argentine skies below he stands

Ferried aloft the standard’s face is revealed

And borne upon the winds of a godless zeal

He forges on through the perpetual dark

And closes in on the ancient ark

Where the fame of erstwhile heroes’s stored

And all cherished tales of battlelore

The sceptre wrench’d from the master’s hand

Argentine skies below he stands

Primordial mores are all but lost

The latter days know nothing of the cost

Insipid lives of lifeless men

Their doctrine’s claim on penitence

Doth rules the weakest minds of those not freed

Ensanguined spoils of crusades' toils are fixed

To pietism’s clasp on those betwixt the amalgam of gods and men

Our mercenary strives to rend

Anathematic bonds of theists' call, for one an all

The faithless one shall never fall

The faithless one shall never fall

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