Николай Артёменко (музыка, стихи vs Oscar Wilde) - Blood & Wine (11' Extended version) текст песни

Blood & Wine

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed,
And blood and wine but blood and wine
Makes a horror masquerade.

He does not die a death of shame
One day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
Into an empty space,
And blood and wine were on his hands
But never in this place.

And devil cried, «The world is wide,
But fettered limbs go lame.
And once, or twice, to throw the dice
Is a gentlemanly game,
But he does not win who plays wit sin
In the secret House of Shame»
He makes it bleed great gouts of blood,
And makes it bleed in vain.

And all men kill the thing they love
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Blood and wine, blood and wine
Life and death and no time,
Stars and sun will never shine
Blood and wine, blood and wine.
Blood and wine, blood and wine
His hands in blood, his soul in wine
Sins that numbers eight and nine
Are blood and wine, blood and wine.

With tears of blood he cleansed the hand
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heel:
The crimson stain that was a Cain
Became Christ's snow white sea
The Lord of Death with icy breath
Had entered in to kill.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh.
He looked upon the opened sky
With such a wistful eye
The man had killed the thing he loved
And so he had to die…

And all men kill the thing they love
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Blood and wine, blood and wine
Life and death and no time,
Stars and sun will never shine
Blood and wine, blood and wine.
Blood and wine, blood and wine
His hands in blood, his soul in wine
Sins that numbers eight and nine
Are blood and wine, blood and wine.