Blasphemous Prayers
May your mouth be blessed, for it is adulterous!
It has the taste of new roses and the taste of old earth
It has sucked in the dim pith of flowers and reeds
When it speaks, what one hears is
Like a treacherous rustle of reeds
And this cruel ruby, all blood-stained and cold
Is the last wound of Jesus on the cross

Oraison mauvaise (x8)

May your soul be blessed, for it is corrupt!
A proud emerald fallen on the paving of the streets
Its haughtiness has blended with the smell of the mud
And I have just crushed in the glorious mud
On the paving of the streets
Which is a way of the cross
The last thoughts of Jesus on the cross

Oraison mauvaise (x4)

Woman who, like the stab of a knife
Have entered my doleful heart
You who came wild and gaudy
Strong as a pack of demons
And made your bed and your domain
Of my humbled mind
Vile woman to whom I'm bound
Like the convict to the chain
Like the stubborn gambler to the game
Like the drunkard to the bottle
Like the carrion to the vermin
A curse, a curse upon you!

I've begged the quick sword blade
To win my freedom for me
And I've asked the perfidious poison
To succour my cowardice

Alas! the poison and the sword
Held me up to scorn and said
"You do not deserve to be released
From your accursed thraldom, you fool!
Even if our efforts
Delivered you from her sway
Your kisses would resuscitate
The corpse of your vampire!"

Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau dans mon cœur! (x2)

Oraison mauvaise (x4)

Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau dans mon cœur! (x2)
Oraison mauvaise (x4)