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lyrics

Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla.

Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quotiens sentiunt mentibus
Is, ut percipiat, non potest nisi auxilio,
cuncta stricte discussurus!

Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulcra regionum,
Vocat universa lutum.

Mors stupebit et natura,
Transierunt vitam quando non oritura
sola novae vitae oritura.

Liber scriptus proferetur,
In quo totum continetur,
Unde mundus cantabitur.

nemo tollet a iudice scamnum
Nihil est occultatum,
praecepta superbiae tantum

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronum rogaturus,
Cum vix justus sit securus?

Rex tremendae majestatis reges
Vos scitis nulla salus
Nihil est sale me, fons pietatis.

Recordare, Mater pie,
Quia nulla causa viae
in perpetuum Nos expulit ex omni die.

Seminis me, sedisti, lassus;
vos autem domi imis excire sepulcris,
quia omnis vita nos semper

tacet nox, tacere aetheres
Semper, nunquam vigilantes
facies iudicium nihil, nisi insanire

Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus;
Sed usque non est iudex.

In facie aeternum
in facie perpendiculum in desolationem
Ubi enim conversus ad fidem,

Preces meae non sunt audita
cur deinde,
quia non est perpetua frui non flamma,

Da mi Inter oves locum praesta,
ne ab hoedis me sequestra,
Clostridium ad me unus de manu mea.

Mater est Confutatis et maledictis
Flammis acribus addictis,
Fiat mihi sentire non est deus

Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis,
Eritis mihi mutatio fiat in viribus

Lacrimosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.

Terra ergo parce hoc, o homo,
Piam Matrem contemplari:
Audi paenitentiam fateantur. Amen.

This day, this day of wrath
shall consume the world in ashes,
as foretold by David and the Sibyl.

What trembling there will be
Whenever there are conscious minds
to perceive, they cannot but help to weigh everything strictly!

The trumpet, scattering its awful sound
Across the graves of all lands
Summons all into the ground.

Death and nature shall not be stunned
When no passed life arises
only new life arises.

The written book shall be brought
In which all is contained
Whereby the world shall be sung

No judge to take the bench
Nothing is hidden;
Only the rules of pride.

What shall I, a wretch, say then?
To which protector shall I appeal
When even the just man is barely safe?

Kings of awful majesty
You know there is no salvation
None to save me, found of pity.

Remember, gentle Mother
There is no reason for my time on earth,
We are forever cast out every day

Seeding me, you sank down wearily,
you are home and graveyard,
all the life we will ever know

Silent night, Quiet skies,
always watched never watching
Judgement? No. Only madness

I groan as one guilty,
my face blushes with guilt;
But still there are none to judge

In the face of eternity
in the face of emptiness
where do we turn for faith

My prayers are not heard,
but then why should they be,
for didn't I enjoy the everlasting flame,

Give me a place among the sheep,
do not separate me from the goats,
let me be one with the bacteria upon my hand.

When the Mother is damned and confounded
and consigned to keen flames,
Let me feel not a god.

I pray, suppliant and kneeling,
a heart as contrite as ashes;
Let change be my strength.

That day is one of weeping,
on which shall rise again from the ashes
the guilty man, to be judged.

Therefore spare this Earth, O Man,
merciful Mother:
Hear our repentance. Amen.

credits

from Requiem For (demo, no vox, virtual instruments), released November 17, 2020

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The Museum of Viral Memory Eugene, Oregon

A lifetime in noise & experimental stitched to the last 100 years of electroacoustic, ecoacoustic, concrete magique

Improv jazz come unpinned from time

Conceptual music built from field recordings

Sound art for dreaming, drifting, disappearing

Ritual magick, slow to cast; slow to coalesce

Invocations unintended for human ears

Music in geologic time

Aureality for the non-conscious mind ... more

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