Les Litanies De Satan - Misanthrope

O Toi, le plus savant et le plus beau des Anges

Dieu trahi par le sort et prive de louanges

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere !

O Prince de l’exil, a qui l’on a fait tort

Et qui, vaincu, toujours te redresse plus fort

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere !

Toi qui sais tout, grand roi des choses souterraines

Guerisseur familier des angoisses humaines

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere !

Pere adoptif de ceux qu’en sa noire colere

Du paradis terrestre a chasses Dieu le Pere

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere !

O Toi qui de la Mort, ta vieille et forte amante

Engendras l’Esperance, — une folle charmante !

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere !

Gloire et louange a toi, Satan, dans les hauteurs

Du ciel, ou tu regnas, et dans les profondeurs

De l’Enfer, ou, vaincu, tu reves en silence !

Fais que mon ame un jour, sous l’Arbre de Science

Pres de toi se repose, a l’heure ou sur ton front

Comme un Temple nouveau ses rameaux s’epandront !

6. La Druidesse du G (c)vaudan

Tapie dans l’ombre d’une nuit sauvage

Dernier contrepoids d’animalite dressee

Dressee contre l’humanite

A pas de loup elle se faufile

Courbant son ossature d’une souplesse divine

Filant tel le feu follet au milieu des forets

Ou son velours bleute entoure un regard de saphir cisele

Druidesse, defie les pieges a loups tendus a l’encontre de ton elegance

Car l’homme effraye s’arme contre ton improbable existence

Appeure les, toi la proie ideale, impitoyablement chassee

Bouc emissaire, agitateur de sortileges ancres dans le passe

Memoire de nos ancetres, terrorises par la Bete

La druidesse du Gevaudan tranforme son corps en metamorphose

Ses crocs dechiquetant sa peau d’ecorce de rose

Rude accouchement d’un metabolisme necrose

Devorante renaissance d’un sang noir et souille

La druidesse du Gevaudan se regenere de sagesse et d’immobilisme

Enluminant ses grimoires de dorures gaeliques

Offrant a la nature son sang comme «force de vie»

Elle canalise la Bete en chacune de nos folies Faisons appel aux rudiments des

techniques de chasse

Druidesse, defie les pieges a loups tendus a l’encontre de ton elegance

Car l’homme effraye s’arme contre ton improbable existence

Appeure les, toi la proie ideale, impitoyablement chassee

Bouc emissaire, agitateur de sortileges ancres dans le passe

De nos contrees reculees

O Thou, most learned and most beautiful of Angels

God betrayed by fate and deprived of praise

O Satan, have mercy on my long misery!

O Prince of exile, who has been wronged

And who, defeated, always raises you up stronger

O Satan, have mercy on my long misery!

You who know everything, great king of underground things

Familiar healer of human anxieties

O Satan, have mercy on my long misery!

Adoptive father of those whom in his black anger

From earthly paradise chased God the Father

O Satan, have mercy on my long misery!

O You who of Death, your old and strong lover

Begot Hope, — a charming madwoman!

O Satan, have mercy on my long misery!

Glory and praise to you, Satan, in the heights

From heaven, where thou dost reign, and into the depths

From Hell, or, vanquished, you dream in silence!

Make my soul one day, under the Tree of Science

Next to you rests, at the hour or on your brow

Like a new Temple its branches will spread!

6. The Druidess of G (c) vaudan

Lurking in the shadows of a wild night

Last counterweight of trained animality

Raised against humanity

Stealthily she sneaks

Curving its frame with divine suppleness

Spinning like the will-o'-the-wisp through the forests

Where its bluish velvet surrounds a chiseled sapphire gaze

Druidess, defy the wolf traps set against your elegance

Because the frightened man arms himself against your improbable existence

Scare them, you the ideal prey, ruthlessly hunted

Scapegoat, agitator of spells anchored in the past

Memory of our ancestors, terrorized by the Beast

The druid of Gevaudan transforms her body into a metamorphosis

Her fangs shredding her rose bark skin

Rough delivery of a necrotic metabolism

Devouring rebirth of black and tainted blood

The druid of Gevaudan is regenerated with wisdom and immobility

Illuminating his grimoires with Gaelic gilding

Offering to nature his blood as "life force"

She channels the Beast into our every madness Let's call on the rudiments of

hunting techniques

Druidess, defy the wolf traps set against your elegance

Because the frightened man arms himself against your improbable existence

Scare them, you the ideal prey, ruthlessly hunted

Scapegoat, agitator of spells anchored in the past

From our remote lands