Understand...

Feel free to understand
That what I see has now ended
So try to break down the wall
For to long tears had fall

I now see that you are long behind
Overcoming the true that’s hide
In fear the raven fly high
In tears I run and hide

The stars are reaching me again
Inside the cradle’s chain
Blood covers the insidious moon
The soul grows in gloom

In Memoriam

Aqui relembro o meu carro, velhinho, mas que eu gostava muito. Infelizmente a reparação era superior ao valor do carro, pelo que um arranjo ficou fora de questão. O motor recuou, a caixa de mudanças foi-se e o habitáculo deformou um bocadinho com a batida.

Foi o resultado de um pião, uma batida contra uma divisória de betão e de um slide lateral sobre as portas direitas, no último fim-de-semana.

Memento mori...
Farewell

A single Rose

The grander jester of the few, dwell in the twilight mist of dawn.

Under the grey dust of the untainted world
Grows the thorn of the rose.
Sensing the final chapter of the agonizing swan
The melody runs in shades of red.
Again the rose embraces life
And the new garden sings with pride.

Happy Halloween!!

Thanks for the poem!


"Asleeping Halloween
The opened Door of Hell
Hollowed ghostly scene
Amongst haunted fog we dwell

In dreary landscapes of Death
The autumn's skeleton celebration
Brings the atrocious horror breath
To our nightmare's glorification

The day of crusing corpses
To and fro in horrific shade
Smelling abnormal macabre spectres
That fall in silent Darkness and fade

And at the Gate of Hell's closure
All wicked spirits shall return
Through sorrowed and vivid exposure
Into Devil's ardour to burn..."

Moonlight (Original Recording)

Caro Victor Hugo,
Em resposta ao teu comentário disponibilizo aqui a versão original da Moonlight (já com muitos aninhos). A bateria ainda tu a gravavas com os dedos!! Isso sim, era talento! É um tanto ou quanto diferente da versão final, mas não deixa, ainda assim, de ter uma força muito grande. Foi, como tu afirmaste, a paixão pela música.
Se te lembrares uma das razões pela qual fizemos outra versão foi a parte género "martelada" que a música tem lá pelo meio. Ainda agora rasgo um sorriso ao ouvir “aquilo”... (o que nós gozámos (com nós mesmos!) graças a este riff)Lamento não ter guardado os ficheiros originais, mas lá descobri esta preciosidade num CD ali perdido na confusão do esquecimento.


Um grande abraço,
Stay heavy.

Rain

Music (Vidal/Melo)

Em homenagem aos dias de chuva que têm assolado o país.
Esta música foi totalmente criada num dia de chuva. Um dia triste e nostálgico que ficou impresso na sua melodia intrínseca. Não é por acaso que se chama Rain.

Moonlight

With this song I return to reminiscence. This one was one of the first songs we made, although this version is a late one. The early one had no female vocals; actually, the first one had no lyrics at all. A nice environment of gothic lust combine with a little of ambient and metal (always). (Music: Vidal/Melo) (Lyrics: Sonia/Vidal) “I am the veil of the night A jewel that brights Cold whispers in Your eyes I feel the fire in the sky Your dark desire… … Wondering through the stars” Desire! My body is scratched by your sight The scars are burning in my mind “Lust” The fire is consuming all Thy veil is a lake In wish I’d like to drown My Soul (“Desire!”) I wish the dark blue of thy body “Feel me” I’m mad! How can I undress your delight? Death shall feed my desire… “How can you kiss the air? My ethereal seduction” “Dark is my enchantment” A fragrant color “Your soul inhales” The mirror The harmony “My light body” Thy madness… 15 October 2006 Assim se comporta o homem do imediato… Estava a ler o Desespero Humano de Sören Kierkegaard numa sala de espera aguardando para ser chamado para uma entrevista quando me deparei com esta passagem deliciosa relativamente ao desespero visto através da consciência, neste caso particular da perspectiva do imediato. Não é nada de especial mas foi daquelas leituras que me fizeram desfazer em riso... Reza assim: “Conta-se que um aldeão, que viera descalço para a capital, aí ganhou um par de vinténs, e depois de comprar meias e sapatos, o que sobrou ainda chegou para se embriagar. Diz a história que então, embriagado e querendo regressar à terra, caiu no meio da estrada e adormeceu. Aconteceu passar um carro e o cocheiro gritou-lhe que se desviasse para não ficar com as pernas esmagadas. Então o nosso bêbado acorda, olha para as suas pernas, e, não as reconhecendo, exclama: «Podes passar por cima, que não são as minhas». Assim se comporta o homem do imediato que desespera: impossível é imaginá-lo senão numa postura cómica, porque já é uma espécie de tour de force o falar, como ele faz na sua algaravia, dum eu e ao mesmo tempo de desespero.” 11 October 2006 Vlad III 08 October 2006 An Illusion Masquerade Reminiscent of the pass… This music has a few years and belongs to a collaboration between me and my friend Victor Hugo (Hail to thee, my friend). The lyrics in the music are not complete therefore, in the lyric below, the parts that do not exist in the song are in italic. Hail to Metal, Into Glory Ride! “This is me A long black veil You reach death And now you love with me” Now! I see your aura Fading into my soul With blue traces Slow… Dancing with you “Naked night” My passion masquerade I’m desperate An immortal feeling Visions of thee “Flow… By the dream You know this is true An that there’s no coming back” ”I need you… I need you to survive!” I’m falling Into a realm of insanity Noisy voices whispers the fear… … The fear… The FEAR!!! Your eyes, your hair, your mouth A purple vision An Illusion Masquerade A bright light I’m feeling lost… Into blue I feel the loss I feel the sadness… … The sadness… 07 October 2006 Antítese da felicidade É a história descrita pelo tal Qualquer que seja a razão Não vê desculpa para esconder o mal Atitudes estranhas que por ele passam Encontros complexos Que de dentro nascem… É maquinado o seu desacerto Nada está salvo Está morto por dentro. 26 September 2006 Nebular/Nebulosa Amid the veils of a nebular I ride upon a fallen star And see my arms in the lost abyss Avoiding the tides of that dark bliss So there I stood in the burning sun Through the mist of the oblivion Boarding the waves of the crimson sea To the city that lingers ethereally De uma forma concreta e estupefacta Uma vida que foge e uma que mata No destino perdido de uma flor Uma nebulosa encontrada na dor No crepúsculo viajo pela calma A gotícula acumula-se na alma Na nocturna luminosidade carmim Naquela tarde do inicio do principio do fim 04 September 2006 By Christina Rossetti A Friend from College sent me these poems, because my writing travels in the same universe as Christina Rossetti’s. I guess she was right! Thank you Bárbara… A Rose Plant in Jericho At morn I plucked a rose and gave it Thee, A rose of joy and happy love and peace, A rose with scarce a thorn: But in chillness of a second morn My rose bush drooped, and all its gay increase Was but one thorn that wounded me. I plucked the thorn and offered it to Thee And for my thorn Thou gavest love and peace, Not joy this mortal morn: If Thou hast given much treasure for a thorn, Wilt Thou not give me for my rose increase Of gladness, and all sweets to me? My thorny rose, my love and pain, to Thee I offer; and I set my heart in peace. And rest upon my thorn: For verily I think tomorrow morn Shall bring me Paradise, my gift`s increase, Yea, give Thy very Self to me. ....................................................................... An Echo From Willow-wood Two gazed into a pool, he gazed and she, Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I think, Pale and reluctant on the water`s brink, As on the brink of parting which must be. Each eyed the other`s aspect, she and he, Each felt one hungering heart leap up and sink, Each tasted bitterness which both must drink, There on the brink of life`s dividing sea. Lilies upon the surface, deep below Two wistful faces craving each for each, Resolute and reluctant without speech:-- A sudden ripple made the faces flow, One moment joined, to vanish out of reach: So those hearts joined, and ah were parted so. Estis servatus etsi estis obscenus Over the clouds of the ancient sky By those wounds that beautify The Crowning of the epitaph The screaming of that laugh And the blue intensify the sea In a way that absurdly Creates a void in the breaching soul A shipwreck in the eyehole So I felt the inner sin Trespassing like a violin Trough chords of closure That floods and recapture And ear the silent song Sung by a swan In the infinite of the moon In that single afternoon 28 August 2006 In the Mist of December Just another walk in the mist... After all still waters may run deep. 24 August 2006 A ressonância da reminiscência Como um cão afasta uma pulga, procura-se o afastamento das memórias reminiscentes que se imiscuíram no cérebro. A cada safanão uma nuvem de pó assenta sobre as sinapses do tempo passado, procurando a sua eliminação… Ecoa o trovão na temperança Na cor verde da esperança No carmim da lua sorridente Pelo crepúsculo do sol nascente Cria a memória um desatino O presente desafia a dor do destino Solta a alma um som ardente Daquela criação crescente Assombra a visão passada Em púrpura desenhada De uma acuidade temível Com uma genuinidade credível Tapa a nuvem o espanto Com uma cor de encanto Acaba com a clemência Ressonância da reminiscência Auguries of Innocence To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage. A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons Shudders hell through all its regions. A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. A horse misused upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear. A skylark wounded in the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing. The game-cock clipped and armed for fight Does the rising sun affright. Every wolf's and lion's howl Raises from hell a human soul. The wild deer wandering here and there Keeps the human soul from care. The lamb misused breeds public strife, And yet forgives the butcher's knife. The bat that flits at close of eve Has left the brain that won't believe. The owl that calls upon the night Speaks the unbeliever's fright. He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men. He who the ox to wrath has moved Shall never be by woman loved. The wanton boy that kills the fly Shall feel the spider's enmity. He who torments the chafer's sprite Weaves a bower in endless night. The caterpillar on the leaf Repeats to thee thy mother's grief. Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the Last Judgment draweth nigh. He who shall train the horse to war Shall never pass the polar bar. The beggar's dog and widow's cat, Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat. The gnat that sings his summer's song Poison gets from Slander's tongue. The poison of the snake and newt Is the sweat of Envy's foot. The poison of the honey-bee Is the artist's jealousy. The prince's robes and beggar's rags Are toadstools on the miser's bags. A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the lies you can invent. It is right it should be so: Man was made for joy and woe; And when this we rightly know Through the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine. The babe is more than swaddling bands, Throughout all these human lands; Tools were made and born were hands, Every farmer understands. Every tear from every eye Becomes a babe in eternity; This is caught by females bright And returned to its own delight. The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar Are waves that beat on heaven's shore. The babe that weeps the rod beneath Writes Revenge! in realms of death. The beggar's rags fluttering in air Does to rags the heavens tear. The soldier armed with sword and gun Palsied strikes the summer's sun. The poor man's farthing is worth more Than all the gold on Afric's shore. One mite wrung from the labourer's hands Shall buy and sell the miser's lands, Or if protected from on high Does that whole nation sell and buy. He who mocks the infant's faith Shall be mocked in age and death. He who shall teach the child to doubt The rotting grave shall ne'er get out. He who respects the infant's faith Triumphs over hell and death. The child's toys and the old man's reasons Are the fruits of the two seasons. The questioner who sits so sly Shall never know how to reply. He who replies to words of doubt Doth put the light of knowledge out. The strongest poison ever known Came from Caesar's laurel crown. Nought can deform the human race Like to the armour's iron brace. When gold and gems adorn the plough To peaceful arts shall Envy bow. A riddle or the cricket's cry Is to doubt a fit reply. The emmet's inch and eagle's mile Make lame philosophy to smile. He who doubts from what he sees Will ne'er believe, do what you please. If the sun and moon should doubt, They'd immediately go out. To be in a passion you good may do, But no good if a passion is in you. The whore and gambler, by the state Licensed, build that nation's fate. The harlot's cry from street to street Shall weave old England's winding sheet. The winner's shout, the loser's curse, Dance before dead England's hearse. Every night and every morn Some to misery are born. Every morn and every night Some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night. We are led to believe a lie When we see not through the eye Which was born in a night to perish in a night, When the soul slept in beams of light. God appears, and God is light To those poor souls who dwell in night, But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day. William Blake 07 August 2006 O Véu da Noite Corre a brisa na nocturna trovoada de verão. Assim como quem não quer a coisa a bruma escala a planície como uma sombra no crepúsculo daquela sensação de vazio que nos enche na solidão daquela imensa angústia. A penumbra estende-se sobre mim. Nocturno é o vulto que se esconde em lamentos. No feminino se estranha os caminhos da incerteza… De azul se veste a dor. "Na névoa densa da madrugada, refúgio da dor angustiada, Cantam rios de sangue, Sem rumo definido, perdido, escondido. Dançam rosas na berma do trilho, Da vida pouco resta senão o desatino. Na insana frescura nocturna, Germinam sentimentos de falsa clausura. Uma miríade de formas evocam a dor, E a ambliopia da vida fecha-se em flor... Rios púrpura rios carmim, No verde gotejante do bosque sem fim; Mares de sorte da lua consorte, Na praia da angústia com voz de malícia; Azul de aurora no rasto de Pandora, Na estrela correu e no crepúsculo morreu. Sobre o esplendor da Lua cresce a Flor, Reclusa e crente na dor; De forma singela acredita no destino, Esteja ele perdido ou escondido..." 12 June 2006 Sobre o Carril de Ferro Tal como por fora da lata na qual os nossos destinos se afastam também insurge na nobre névoa de um qualquer ser evanescente, uma incerteza na qual a indiferença se manifesta como uma dor. Como sempre é esta que nos move na direcção daquilo que falta. Tudo o que é certo falha na exclamação de não estar ali, à-mão. Quantas incertezas se retiram do fundo da alma quando o que falta está perdido na mediocridade do tempo. Neste se fundam os alicerces da nossa compreensão, aquele por onde, nas brumas do infortúnio acreditamos ser senhores do nosso destino. Mas esta mera ilusão, esta subrepção da nossa mente em aceitar aquilo que em nós é falível é o que nos torna humanos e como tal vulneráveis à mutabilidade do universo. Falha aqui a compreensão racional de uma qualquer explicação para o fenómeno do tempo perdido e a sua reacção à existência de um vazio na fuga dos nossos seres. Quem procura a criação da dor fundida pelo tempo na bigorna da distância? Grande é o afastamento desta nossa ευδαιμονία, daquele sorriso ao qual os homens se vergam e procuram a sua decifração nas suas almas. Soa aquela dor familiar na fonte da incongruência da nossa conquista, naquele ponto central onde, naquele dia, nos fundimos em catarse. 01 June 2006 In Search for the Light (Revelation) Outra composição própria. Esta com um sentido muito especial... This one goes for You know who... Thank you for being here. 11 May 2006 Words Of Rage An angel fall’s into the sea With fire wings and lust within A flame that glows through the night In an ancient throne the blood of pride The raven covers the sea of blood Moonlight shadowing the fire free To the shore the glowing flows Penetrating the greenful soul There consumes Occult sign Between the growing horde The awake of the soulless pride Under the crown of the raging word So there stands the prophet of truth In silence, yet screaming Straight up in a field of light Dwelling upon a ground of might This ground so cold and grey With lightings of dismay A red colored sky Where ravens fly high So ear children of stone Feel the aura in the storming throne Listen to the word within And spread your rage in screams… Standing At the End of Time Another step has brought me here Where time dwells and froze the tears Into this life we rise in pain Forever fighting against all in vain Through the path of dying roses By the poured wine of man A walk in time by night causes Intimation to the end Craving our illusion In a portrait of desire Turning our confusion Into a dynasty of fire Living under the shadow In this elliptic ground Standing at the end of time Of this neurotic sound... The Silence... 22 April 2006 "A building gets torched. All that is left is ashes. I used to think that was true about everything -- Family, Friends, Feelings. But now I know that sometimes, if Love proves real, two people who meant to be together -- nothing can keep them apart." 19 April 2006 Esquina da angústia Como quem não vê não sabe o quanto custa ver, anseio pelo que vi e não vejo. Levanto a saia da alma em busca da tua face mas ela não está. Num torpor azul, em tempos salpicado pelo carmim, aguardo por aquele vulto tão familiar. Sento-me na esquina da angústia a ver as asas do desejo e sonho... Perscruto o som do vento por novas de ti, mas em vão apelo ao deuses que te tragam a mim. Mudo para a esquina do sofrimento e enrosco-me em ritos de dor e esperança e grito silenciosamente por ti... Sou encontrado pela angústia e pela ânsia de uma qualquer visão ou cheiro... Encontros pela ânsia do Ser Na vida, no ímpeto de ter Lágrimas correm em excesso Um rio ruidoso e complexo Templos perdidos e esquecidos Consumidos em dias corridos De um tempo que passa sem uma cor Chama que arde sem cor Na floresta de primavera O verde e a luz encerra O nascimento de uma flor Esquecimento de uma dor 16 April 2006 Snow Path Em memória do gelo que se atravessou na minha vida durante demasiado tempo. É de autoria própria e manifesta o percurso pela tristeza... 05 April 2006 FIM "Quando eu morrer batam em latas, Rompam aos saltos e aos pinotes, Façam estalar no ar chicotes, Chamem palhaços e acrobatas! Que o meu caixão vá sobre um burro Ajáezado à andaluza... A um morto nada se recusa, Eu quero por força ir de burro." Mario de Sá Carneiro 26 March 2006 Nocturnal Call Her dark encoded eyes Brought the nature Of the Beast crimson one As Midas choice Whispers in our souls From a fog of leaves Howls trespassing hearts Nocturnal dreams Crossing the perfection Wolves concealing womb The urge for aggression Thy face at pale moonlight Nebulous images of life Forest cries at midnight Ancient time forlorn Her veil in silky leafs The orgy of the trees Regression of the divine Loneliness our sign The light of the Moon embrace Children of the woods in haze Playing with the crows at the absence of light Becoming together with the creatures of the night Screams of wolves… … Nocturnal pulse Ascension of the mist For Her own release… Reflection of the stone In the lake of eternal sleep Light upon the throne As She rises from the womb In black She came With the eyes full of pain Through stars and aeons Flying dragon, the One… Twilight Thy essence Words encrypt Her dress Love… the ultimate step Awaits all that find the path… Her beauty long foretold In the story of the olds Forgotten between the faces… Unseen for very ages By the planets alliance And full moon eclipse She travels through the forest Scaring all the beasts… With Her long dark hair Floating through the wind She left a trail of light Over the shadows in the dark In silence terror… Hide between the bushes The Beast of lust Waits to strike and crush The attack of blood, violence and hate Allowed the Beast to fulfil his fate Raping, cutting, murdering the Angelore A lovely sin… cruelty and gore… The green of the forest Soon became red Thy blood expelled By the animals share… Roses covered your place of rest As a memory to your eternal death The Beast return to the gates of Hell ‘Till the day, you again… Will break thy shell… Infinity Though angels cry and the moon refuses to light the emptiness of winter. And even if compassion fails to reversibly mend sins binding fear to faith. And though the skies do not wake the sun from the twilight of unconscious dream, there will be amends, there will be a purifying wave for beneath every surface, it shall wash over. Love is infinity. It moves all. Eternally, always. 25 March 2006 ESPERANÇA... Nasce o dia em tormentos A Lua foge em lamentos Esconde-se o corvo carmim Rasga-se a noite sem fim Vultos nascem, nocturnos Véus As chamas violam os céus A besta nasce da morte Dias viverão na sorte Os espinhos na pele penetram Crepúsculos da alma afectam Na dor o sangue em trilhos ferve Na espera que o gelo conserve 23 March 2006 Illusion?? "I thought I saw you, out in the crowd So many faces, but it was you that I picked out I see the rainfall, outside my window at night I have discovered my fortune, and it is you I lie between hell and heaven I lie between right or wrong If I were God I could help you But I'm just human like yourself I keep on smiling, 'cause I have this dream Every night that I go to bed, I have this picture of you riding for me You say these three words: "Never forget you" But when I opened my eyes you were gone far away You were gone...far away Gone far away.." Trail of Tears, Disclosure in Red 20 March 2006 The Raven (for dArchangel) Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore! Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven [First published in 1845] 19 March 2006 Doom of Odin "I find no comfort in the shade Under the branch of the Great Ash. I remember the mist of our ancient past. As I speak to you in the present, My ancient eyes see the terrible future. Do you not see what I see? Do you not hear death approaching? The mournful cry of Giallr-horn shall shatter the peace And shake the foundation of heaven. Raise up your banner And gather your noble company from your great hall, Father of the Slains. For you shall go to your destiny. No knowledge can save you, And no magic will save you. For you will end up in Fenrir's belly, While heaven and earth will burn in Surt's unholy fire." - Book of Heroes 17 March 2006 NocturnA Na penumbra da noite desce No espinho da Rosa cresce No útero da vida sem cor O Corvo esvoaça na dor No rasgo da carne que sangra Movimento sombrio que anda Na tona da água carmim Traços da essência sem fim No gelo que arde sem calor Na Rosa que cresce sem odor No verde do tempo nocturno A Alma que morre soturna Vultos dançam ao luar Gritos que rompem o ar Uivos que alimentam Os fogos que fomentam Nasce do rasgo da morte Aquela noite consorte Na Alma cicatrizada Daquela vida queimada. 15 March 2006 Ethereal Asylum Lurked by my emotions, In the forest amid the dark, Forsaken by the moon, Embraced by the gloom… In the dust, the stars, Creations born with scars, Dawns painted in black, Announced our eternal death… As the river of life turns dry, Oceans of pain grow wide, As foretold in the scriptures, Forlorn by the creatures… The birth of the Cosmic dust, Caring the hearts of lust, Metamorphosis of the essence, In their eyes, Sapience! A Rose embraced by veils, Her thorns define the trail, That leads to the Gates, Judgement of our fates… The stars eclipsed by the clouds, Moonlight shadows drawn in the ground, Reflexes of rain painted in leafs, A spring fountain of eternal grief… Smoke exhaled in breaths, The scant for air in death, Vanish by Demon’s lurk, Covered in shadows dirt… The Asylum of Ethereal Light, Forsaken and out of sight, Protected by the night, In graveyards of delight. Runic scriptures engraved in stones, In the Mountain, forsaken, they stand alone, On this world of fools they hide in snow, The evil heart awake and grow. Majestic scenarios in darkwood glades, Euphoria dancing amid Avalon flames, Ecstatic crypts in the Mountain’s lair, A faced mask is what evil bare… Akkadian language in the stones, Kept by wolves in bones, An inferno wall that dwell, In the place, in the Mountain’s shell… The key to Light Divine, Is found in the Uruk Shrine, Protected by Giants of wood, Ruins and misery stood… A grape turn into wine, A recall to the travel of time, Memory to the human soul, Upon cities painted in Gold… By dawn the Quest marsh, Through the forest filled with harsh, By night the rest in shades, The fear (mist) in darkwood glades! They followed the rose trail, A place where thorns prevail, Where winter lives eternally, Fields of ice grow, so desperately… And they roam to the Mountain, The only stop is in the fountain, In the search for the key, To prevent the horror from which they flee… In landscapes despair, Our souls they bare, They run from the heartless… They run from the emptiness… Under thy bright, Moving through the night, Eyes in the shadows, Pulling them to the gallows. From the Mountain came in loom, As they all disappear in gloom, With the sight of this danger, The feeling of anger… Upon them fall the shadows, Driving them to the hollow, They now reign in oblivion… The vault holds the light, Under the spell of the night, Moonlight curse stands high, As humanity dies… Subscribe to: Posts (Atom) I... 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