Sorgens Kammer - Dimmu Borgir

Minnenes ekko stiller timen

Kneblet i tungsinnets lenker faller jeg ifra

Ikke lenger vil jeg være boltet fast i vemodighetens anker

Men endelig få lengselens slukket — Etter å dra

Drakk jeg for meget av livshåpets krus

Tok jeg gledens forfengelighet for gitt

For min strid mot tomhetens smerte — Denne dødsangstens rus

Er det eneste ene igjen — Som er mitt

I min ensomhet vet jeg likevel

At jeg ikke har noen andre å takke enn meg selv

Derfor er jeg rolig når

Repet strammer rundt min nakke

Stumme viner kan ei gi trøst

Menigmann i gravkorets forsamling vil aldri fatte

Det landet av fortapelse

Jeg egenhendig skapte

Denne intense dragning mot dødens portaler

(Har jeg som) En vandrende studie i gråtkvalt messe-noir

Behersket siden tidens morgen

Men noe jeg aldri lot slippe taket — Var sorgen

The echoes of silence sets the hour

Gagged in the chains of «depression», I fall away

No more I will be bolted fast in the anchor of «melancholy»

But finally get my longing «fulfilled" — for leaving

Did I drink too much from the goblet of «lifehope»?

Did I take the vanity of joy for granted?

For my battle against the pain of emptiness — this intoxication of the angst of

death

Is all that is left… that is mine

In my loneliness I still know

That I have none to thank but myself

This is why I remain calm

As the rope is tightening around my neck

Silent witnesses can not give comfort

The ordinary man in the assembly of the «gravechoir»

Tha land of perdition

I created by my own hands

This intense attraction to the portals of death

(I have as) A wandering study of tearful black mass

Controlled since the dawning of time

But something I never would let go.

was the sorrow

The echo of memories sets the hour

The gag in the chains of melancholy I fall off

No longer will I be bolted to the anchor of melancholy

But finally get the longing off - After leaving

I drank too much of the mug of hope for life

I took the vanity of joy for granted

For my struggle against the pain of emptiness - The intoxication of this fear of death

Is the only one left - Which is mine

In my loneliness I still know

That I have no one to thank but myself

That's why I'm calm when

The rope tightens around my neck

Mute wines can not give comfort

An ordinary person in the grave choir's congregation will never understand

That land of perdition

I created with my own hands

This intense attraction to the portals of death

(Do I have that) A wandering study in weeping messe-noir

Mastered since the dawn of time

But something I never let go of - was the grief

The echoes of silence sets the hour

Gagged in the chains of «depression», I fall away

No more I will be bolted fast in the anchor of «melancholy»

But finally get my longing «fulfilled" - for leaving

Did I drink too much from the goblet of «lifehope»?

Did I take the vanity of joy for granted?

For my battle against the pain of emptiness - this intoxication of the anxiety of

death

Is all that is left… that is mine

In my loneliness I still know

That I have none to thank but myself

This is why I remain calm

As the rope is tightening around my neck

Silent witnesses can not provide comfort

The ordinary man in the assembly of the «gravechoir»

Tha land of perdition

I created by my own hands

This intense attraction to the portals of death

(I have as) A wandering study of tearful black mass

Controlled since the dawning of time

But something I never would let go.

was the sorrow