Текст песни To These Words I Beheld No Tongue (Theatre Of Tragedy) с переводом

Whether the thoned Monarch weareth the crown,

Which I know not whether to his belongeth;

Doth he hence the sceptre sway?

Seasoneth he justice? -

Daresay I he doth not,

Will he then use his sceptre as a wand? -

Where doth sit my awe? — Trieth me conjure;

Perchance a spell?; a reptile, a sullied hound? -

Is the gentle rain a quality of his? -

I bethink this fro my thoughts; hitherto, about this,

I beheld to these words no tongue; are the

Monarchs’s men his thralls or his servants? -

Oft I waylay my tongue —

Those of which are withal by my gnarled heart not heed’d;

Or doth the trostle sing with more glee

At daybreak than a twilight? -

Brawl not my imp, nor my cherub; reserve my judgement —

Crave not the sword when the bodkin fro ere thine is;

That undiscover’d country; be that

Of calamity, be that of joy, be that of apathy;

Tread not paths of new when those of old are

Far by an only single footstep; walk, be it

On the left, on the right — be it the one which

Straight forward leadeth, the one of correct

I have as until now not heed’d any signs of!

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