GLORIA+VICTIS (Old Norse Version) — AI Music

Описание: LYRICS (Old Norse):

Gloria Victis!

Á vígvöllum, þar blóð rennr djúpt,
Þrjú ríki berjast, friðr eigi er keypt.
Hjörtr mætir örn ok ljóni frægu,
Enginn gefst upp, enginn er hræddu.

Gloria Victis!

Enginn sigrar fullkomlega, stríð eigi hættir.
Hvernig sigra? Hvernig verða efst, þegar enginn bætir?
Miðlöndum ríki ok Ísmir fylking,
Ok Sángmarr veldi, í eilífri víking.

Þrjú ríki bundin í stríði, þar enginn dauðr dvelr:
Sángmarr veldi – nákvæmni óviðjafnanleg, sem enginn felr.
Miðlöndum ríki, með reiði í augum,
Ok Ísmir fylking, með villtum herópum.

Gloria Victis!

Himinn roðinn, er ríki skellast saman,
Í dauðadansi, þar enginn má leynast framan.
Engar hetjur rísa í myrkri nátt,
Aðeins vígamenn falla, í beiskri orrustu hátt.

Gloria Victis!

Þrjú ríki mætast, í örlagaskelli,
Blóð ok heiðr, innsiglað í hatri, sem felli.
Þegar ein orrusta lýkur, nýtt kallar á,
Tími snýst í hring. Dýrð fallnum, sem lá!

Gloria Victis!

Karljónska ljónið, tákn mikils máttar,
Sem hersar Miðlanda búa sig til orrustu, sem áttar.
Brynja þeirra skín björt, langsvið hátt haldin,
Gegn fornir fjendr, sverðir til dauða, sem aldrei er falin.

Gloria Victis!

Ísmir hjörtr, æ þyrstr í stríð,
Með ofsa storms, vilja þeir hefna sín víð.
Breiðaxar þeirra syngja, skera með banvænum lag,
Meðan heróp þeirra hljóma, í eltingar brag.

Gloria Victis!

Sángmarr gullherjar, gengr í bardaga,
Keisarans örn, aldrei leiðir þá afvega.
Í nafni keisara, fylking þeirra stendr fast,
Með óvinum nær – þeir eru fúsir í kast.

Karljónska ljónið, rýtr með miklum móð,
Gegn norrænum hjarti, með sterkan fót.
Ok gullna arnar, keisarans veldi,
Í eilífum bardaga, án hjálpræðis heldi.

Gloria Victis!

Þrjú ríki mætast, í örlaga skell,
Blóð ok heiðr, í hatri er sell.
Þegar eitt stríð lýkr, nýtt hefst brátt,
Aldri lýkr því, dýrð hinum drátt!

Gloria Victis!

Í langan tíma, stríð eigi hættir,
Enginn friðarboð, enginn sáttir bætir.
Fallin lík dreifð um vígvelli víða,
Blóðug spor sýna hvar menn líða.
Þótt margir falli, ei er stríði öllu,
Aeterna Gloria Victis – Eilíf dýrð hinum föllnu!
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TRANSLATION (English):

Gloria Victis!

On battlefields, where blood runs deep,
Three realms fight, peace is not bought.
The stag meets the eagle and the famous lion,
No one gives up, no one is afraid.

Gloria Victis!

Because no one comes out on top, the war never ends.
How to be victorious? How to be supreme, when no one gains the advantage?
The kingdoms of Midland and the Ismir coalition,
And the Sangmar Empire, locked in eternal warfare.

Three realms bound in conflict, where nothing remains dead:
The Sangmar Empire - unparalleled in precision, which no one conceals.
The kingdoms of Midland, with rage in their eyes,
And the Ismir coalition, with wild battle-cries.

Gloria Victis!

The sky reddens, as realms clash together,
In a dance of death, where no one can hide.
No heroes rise in the dark night,
Only warriors fall, in fierce bitter battle.

Gloria Victis!

Three realms meet, in a clash of fate,
Blood and honor, sealed in staggering hatred.
When one battle ends, a new one is calling,
Time turns in a circle. Glory to those who lay fallen!

Gloria Victis!

The Karleonian lion, a symbol of great power,
As the lords of the Midlands prepare for battle, which they mastered.
Their armor shines brightly, long spears held high,
Against ancient foes, swords to the death, which is never hidden.

Gloria Victis!

The Ismir stag, ever thirsty for war,
With the fury of a storm, they wish to avenge themselves widely.
Their broadaxes sing, cutting with a deadly blow,
While their war cries echo, in the rush of pursuit.

Gloria Victis!

The Golden Armies of Sangmar, march into the fray,
The Imperial Eagle, never leads them astray.
In the name of the Emperor, their ranks stand firm,
With enemies near – they are eager to fight.

The Karleonian lion roars with great fury,
Against the northern stag, with its strong stride.
And the golden eagle's imperial might,
In eternal battle, with no salvation in sight.

Gloria Victis!

Three realms meet in a clash of fate,
Blood and honor, paid for with hatred.
When one war ends, a new one soon begins,
It never ends, glory to the fallen!

Gloria Victis!

For an eternity, the war does not cease,
No peace offering, no reconciliation available.
Fallen bodies scattered across wide battlefields,
Bloody tracks show where men suffer.
Though many fall, the war is never over.
Aeterna Gloria Victis – Eternal glory to the fallen!

Gloria Victis!
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​(Lyrics and translation & song made by Wintermoore, with the help of AI)