Phalènes et pestilence – salvatrice averse [English translation]

"There is no sin that does not service our redemption… Praise to our sins that have earned us this."

CLAUDEL

[I. Fire]

Lightning weeps its gold in sharp thunder’s roar!

Over my night usurped by entranced suns.

A cataclysm falls, inflaming the arborescence

Of my body flooded with electrical tapeworms…krew

Scream frantic muses, inspire me

With the flaming cataracts of transcendence!

[II. Canticle]

‘There, pour

Your burning rain of moths

Sowing gemstones of carnage

On the reddened lands bathed in acrid incense.

Deleterious Night, weep

Hot showers of incarnated cinders,

Bloody the ether

With feverish insect swarms!

Deafly, go wither

The tainted chaff, ferment of inanity,

With your elixir, irrigate

The toxic womb of humanity.’

END

Overripe flora of bodies.

Cesspool of putrefying flesh.

Pendulous womb where there sleeps

A swirling sediment of wounds…

One must drown the plague

With the plague, so that an atoning acid

Issuing forth from the heavens infests

Our cities that stand as cuspidors.

• Artist:Peste Noire
• Album:La Sanie des siècles – Panégyrique de la dégénérescence