Lavana II: Hardest Harvest

by Heliophagia Netlabel

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The Lavana II compilation is timed to mark the Day of Harvest (celebrated at the mid-point between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox) as a tribute to the reaping of our thoughts, words, deeds and lives.

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Компиляция Lavana приурочена к Дню Жатвы (который празднуется в срединной точке между летним солнцестоянием и осенним равноденствием) и посвящается пожинанию наших мыслей, слов, дел и жизней.

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released August 7, 2017

Cover-art by fullfull0

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Heliophagia Netlabel Saint Petersburg, Russia

Heliophagia is a Russian netlabel. Recently Heliophagia has been releasing thematical compilations, which are dated to the days of solstices and equinoxes.

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Track Name: Futiliteit Orchestra - I Believe (In Nothing)
The irony of Socrates
I paired with Marxist prophecies,
Swilled antifreeze and Hennessies -
Whatever burnt the throat

My homebrew social remedies
Could have raised the dead Kennedys
A cure that's worse than the disease -
But now I found my road

Read grumbling Heide-Heide-Heidegger
Foucault sang to me like a nightingale,
And all the fearsome mighty Ger-
-mans filled my head with haze

With Kantian imperatives
I deconstructed narratives
Took other mental laxatives
But now I changed my ways!

- Has critique run out of steam?

Rode to hell but now I'm saved
Ain't it great how I found faith:
I believe -
In nothing!

Lived in sin now I'm behaved
Ain't it cool how I found faith:
I believe -
In nothing!

Believe in nothing,
Believe in nothing!

I focused inner energy
In Babylonian theurgy
Tried zen and tao and tai chi
Shaved like a Buddhist monk

My homebrew vinous alchemy
Made witches very welcoming,
Saw Cernunnos in Kilkenny
(Or maybe I was drunk)

As taught by Mega-Mega-Therion
I kept my cool and put the kettle on
The recipe for cakes was wrong -
I never liked the taste

Took right turns on the left-hand path
The Great Priest was a psychopath
I stopped the chant and did the math:
It all turned out a waste

- Ol sonf vorsg goho iad balt!
Track Name: Casa Ukrania - Ofira
Там вдалині виднокіл сміється вогнем
Тут уночі розквітає вибухом твердь
Доки ми маримо небом, ми не живем
Доки спимо, ми не вільні бачити смерть

Наші боги пам'ятають темні часи
Ми офіруємо сльози, зерна і плоть
Ми віддаємо їм ймення і голоси
В тиші нас легше на порох перемолоть

День нам майбутнє кістками вистеля
Давні борги нам належить повернуть
Наприкінці залишиться тільки земля
З неї прийшли і у неї держимо путь
Track Name: Kαχαγγέλιον - Černozëm
Žaždu zemli davno
Vodoj uže ne utolitj.
Estj lišj toljko odno,
Čto možet eë napoitj.

Čtoby žili my,
Čtoby naša zemlӓ
Obiljno zoloto žita rodila,
Ej nužno, čtob krovj eë okropila;

Čtoby žito rodila,
Čtoby zakolosila,
Živaӓ, gorӓčaӓ, alaӓ krovj
Otdast černozëmu spolna svoü silu.

Tӓžkoj doli prolivatj
Krovj svoix ne izbežatj,
No gorazdo boljše krovi
Nam svoej podarit

Vrag!

Tankovye traki na podsolnuxovom pole,
Kotël i okruženie, vystup i duga —
Basnӓmi o bratstve i prizyvami k smirenjü
Polnӓtsӓ detalӓmi obrazy vraga.

Kto teperj tvoj brat,
Zemli tvoej kto kat?
Vmesto vora našej voli
Stanet kto zoloü v pole?

Prežde čem zemli kosnëtsӓ oralo,
I mërtvoe pole stanet pašnej,
Zemlü vzboronӓt minnye traly,
Zaseüt sorvannye tankovye bašni.

Prežde čem s zemli podnimutsӓ rostki,
Čto napitaüt eë dočj i eë syna,
Zemlü napitaet železo broni,
Železo v globulax gemoglobina.

Iskateli lëgkoj voinskoj slavy,
Glašataj vozvrata nenužnoj deržavy,
Zaraznyj boljnoj imperskoj čumoj —
Oni nikogda ne vernutsӓ domoj!

Iskateli vygody v gore čužom,
Lixoj čelovek na kone voronom,
V svoëm že narode žalkij izgoj —
Oni nikogda ne vernutsӓ domoj!

Lovсy čelovekov v mutnoj vode,
Podžëgšie dom soseda v bede —
Zdesj obryvaetsӓ putj ix zemnoj,
Oni nikogda ne vernutsӓ domoj!

Oni nikogda ne vernutsӓ domoj —
Ix ukroet černozëm.

S olivkovoj vetvjü ili s mečom,
Na şite ili so şitom,
S krasnoj zvezdoü ili s krestom,
Vsex ukroet černozëm…

Vsex ukroet černozëm.
Track Name: System Morgue - Styx
May the water gently
Smother sleeping ships
Tiptoe through the windowpanes
On paws of silk

Slip by guard and sentry;
Brush against your lips,
Eyes like hurricanes
Whipping blood and milk.

Seriously now,
What did we expect? -
Standing in her path
With our stones and sticks

Seriously now:
Gaze at her aspect -
The mesmeric depth
Of the river Styx.

May the water gently
May the water gently
May the water gently
Rise