Poppaea
Dance of Shadows: Unveiling the Dark Tale in Theatre of Tragedy's Poppaea
Lyrics
Dream of a funeral, blest temptress - behest me! -
Dreaming of a funeral, I implore the alluring temptress to command me.
A funeral thou'lt hark, swarth murderess - the Devil,
Anticipating a funeral, addressing a dark murderer - possibly a demonic figure.
Thine feral grith with me, Poppaea, be Hell's hap:
Your wild harmony with me, Poppaea, is the fate of Hell.
Waylaid the beldame bawd, the niggard: Laughing tragedy.
The old, lewd woman seductress is misled, the miser: a laughing tragedy.
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
The woman engages in lewdness,
Stay my adamant -
Halt my unyielding stance -
Suffer me to transfix thee:
Allow me to pierce you:
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
The woman engages in lewdness,
Let me dawt thine twain -
Let me fondle both of you -
And, twine 'hem apart.
And separate them.
Of marrow, do na mell; I am Morelle -
Do not meddle with the essence; I am Morelle -
The bosom'd Titivil; travail me; fain,
The cherished Titivil; work with me willingly,
Subdue me with thine lote in oneness - make haste yet,
Overcome me with your desire for unity - act quickly,
Displode me in a font - Poppaea, do what thou wilt.
Explode me in a source - Poppaea, do as you wish.
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
The woman engages in lewdness,
Stay my adamant -
Halt my unyielding stance -
Suffer me to transfix thee:
Allow me to pierce you:
And the wench doth bawdness to blow,
The woman engages in lewdness,
Let me dawt thine twain -
Let me fondle both of you -
And, twine 'hem apart.
And separate them.
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