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Parus 04:33 02. Vikhr' vremeni 04:00 ------- 08:33 █▄█▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ █ █ release.notes █▀█▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀ ▀ ▀ Folk/Pagan/Doom/Black Metal from Naberezhnye Chelny, Tatarstan, Russia Band's history began in the second half of 1995 when Andrey Losev decided to start his own project. His attention was drawn to medieval music and russian folk melodies. After a year, in August 1996, Alkonost was born. Over 20 years band has gone through a lot of different things, but it's unique sound and special atmosphere remained, being band's distinctive features for all that time. released October 15, 2019 Original lyrics in ID3 tags, english translation here: --------------------------------------------------------- 01 - Parus By the haze of dead waters A battered prow is floating. You're aft And across the wave - Fog is like a cold wall. The sword is at hand Night rest - Not silence, deceit... You don't remember, don't want any bonds, You don't know, don't keep the course There's a calmness in your heart No strength to row And to look for the shore in darkness. You can't turn back, And knows the way Only the wind that touched the surface. Cloak is torn from the tired shoulders And the damask sword is broken But one cannot shatter the sea But the sky cannot be destroyed. And one can't cut In the worst battle Invisible wind thread. Under the board is a splash of dark waves. The prow that got lost in the darkness... There is no way But shine, you, Star, (my) guiding light. Shallop, swim Wind, lead My sail into a golden dawn. --------------------------------------------------------- 02 - Vikhr' vremeni A whirlwind of ribbons and golden hair - Haymaking, dancing until the morning. Golden hops is poured in mugs, Heady meads, it's time for the feast. Only the old bard by the fire Sings the song, it brings the ringing of steel. One who was glorious yesterday - In winter, became dust in a whirlwind of time. Snow, blood ... Ice of winter stars - And the question is who is at fault. Ravens' crimson feast, The fragile peace was crushed by war. Only a bard wrapped in a cloak Sings a song, it brings the jingling of goblets. All that yesterday's weeping's about In spring, becomes dust in a whirlwind of time. Rise and fall - in a whirlwind of time ... Dance is eternal - death... birth... Waves are splashing, stones are whetted, Making tears of the world into treasure... --------------------------------------------------------- * IF YOU LiKE iT - BUY iT! *