Протидія - Музика Нестерпної Сили(The Music of Unbearable Force)

by Protydiya

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about

This work of art describes the frustration of man in the midst of life and the search for meaning in it. In fact, the idea is in common with the mini-album "So we are." This is a self-affirmation of human value without the existence of classical preconditions for this. Painful and at the same time exciting liberation from the absolute, which gives unbearable freedom. The mood of the composition changes from the epic presentation of the state of human existence, to its melancholy and somewhat difficult peace with the emergence of a Nietzschean understanding of the situation. The track structure is somewhat dialectical, combining these two approaches to feeling and understanding. God is dead, and we still have to, but should we stop in that case?

lyrics

UKR:
Нещасний камінь, серед бездни,
Грізно воля покохала,
Випробування величезне,
Та їй все мало, мало й мало.

Закрутилась, завертілась,
Безбожественна удача,
Співчуття у ній немає,
До духу людського тим паче!

Відчуваю втому з небом,
Фрайбург і Турин йдуть з нами,
Нічого більше вже не треба,
Останній акт цієї драми.

Рання думка, чи вершина,
З епохи золотої лине,
Над світом зайвим царювання,
Схилить голову востаннє.

Ми забудемо цей світ,
Тут не були сотні літ,
Випадковість не побачить,
Прикрість, що згоріла без остачі.

Кожний момент коли руки слабкі,
Та дух здається безкрилим,
Це просто думи, покрили її,
Музику нестерпної сили.
Норов, що світ закручує знову,
Кохання до нього остання покрова,
Становить буття, а я сам плету,
З всього що існує, його мету!

ENG:
The will formidably fell in love with a sorrowful stone among the abyss.
The test is huge,
But the will wants more and more and more!

Godless luck,
Turned and twisted,
There's no sympathy in it –
Especially to the human spirit!

I feel tired, as well as the sky
Freiburg and Turin are following us,
Nothing more is needed,
This is the last act of this drama.

The early thought, or top,
From the golden age is flying,
Over the world of superfluous reign,
It bows its head one last time.

We will forget this world,
It hasn't been hundreds of years,
Coincidence will not see
Annoyance that burned without a trace.

Every moment when the hands are weak,
But the spirit seems wingless,
It's just the thoughts that covered the music of unbearable force.
The temper that twists the world again,
Love for him is the last veil,
It has its being, and I weave of all that exists its purpose.