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I am the Pagan Man--I speak for all my kind,
When I criticise your point of view--your hollow state of mind.
You say that I'm an animal--well this at least is true,
I'm a thinking breathing human being--what the hell are you?



ENIGMATIC SPIRIT

Vintersorg

…from a far existence a phantom came
to gibe and curse the mortal.
Abhorrent was its blear-eyed glance
which petrified everything, even the wind.
So, from which dimension did it travel?
This metaphysical envoy.
Which breaks the logical symmetry,
and stand above our planetary puzzel.

All this is symptomatic for those
who's been baptized in fire.
It is at least my thesis, so I
want the spirit to speak.

[THE SPIRIT:]
"In heaven I am a wild ox.
On earth I am a lion.
A jester from hell,
and the shadows almighty.
The scientist of darkness
older than the constellations.
The mysterious jinx and
the error in heavens masterplan."

An amorphous energy spawned in
a cataract of flames, invisible for our
supervision. Do we dare to open
our minds and souls to even
analyse it? Or should it rest in
secrecy? All I know is that I can't
deny its licentious attraction,
so I want the spirit to speak.

[THE SPIRIT:]
"In heaven I am a wild ox.
On earth I am a lion.
A jester from hell,
and the shadows almighty.
The scientist of darkness
older than the constellations.
The mysterious jinx and
the error in heavens masterplan."







IO PAN

Great god of Inkubus sukkubus
in the dust
From an age of wood and stone, through bronze, iron and steel
In the forests and in the trees and in both man and beast
For a hundred-thousand years and onto the future days
He's the earth, he's the sky and he's the solar blaze
Io Pan! God of death and all creation
Io Pan! God of lust and of nature
Pan, Herne, Cernunnos, Lord of the Sacred Flame
But to the Christian fools Satan is his name
Angel of the Seraphim, they dread him more than death
And they wait for apocalypse, they wait with bated breath
Io Pan! God of all that stands before us
Io Pan! God of light and god of darkness
Great god of the wild hunt, speed us to the prey
To the game, to the stars, speed us all the way
Guide for me my axe of flint and let my aim be true
Lord of darkness, Lord of light, lead us to the truth
Great god of the Universe give me my heart's desire
Give to me the gift of flight and your eternal fire

CHURCH OF MADNESS

Here come the Christian knights
Dressed in red and white
To bring the Holy Word and set the world alight
Here comes a plague of idiots blinded by their faith
Here comes the Inquisition to burn you at the stake
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
A new dark age descending, it's Torquemada's dream
Liberty lies raped, crushed, broken
Neath the Christian war machine
Nation after nation falling
In the shadow of the Christian sword
With death they bring the lore of love
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
What do they tell the people of their old crusades?
Of the women and the children
Impaled on Christian blades
Rejoice they say for we are saved
And we must sing the fight
Sing it till your lungs burst or they'll set you alight!
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord











Wordsworth:
The world is too much with us

The world is too much with us: late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreath{`e}d horn

Arhangel:
Milion dolari

Zarem veruvaš vo mene?
Jas sum privid što gi nudi site možni oblici.
I vekje odamna,toa ne sum jas,toa e nekoj što me glumi
i uživa vo dosada.
Sekoj obid da me ljubiš kje ti se vrati kako kazna,
kako gorka izmama.
Jas sum čovek koj živee vo strav,koj se plaši da te dopre,
ne znam dali ostana bar malku ljubov vo mene
ili se iščezna vo vremeto?
Osamen i umoren tragam očajno
po moite milion dolari,
edinstven razlog da prodolžam da živeam i nema način da me promeniš
se što možeš e da me ubiješ...


Wintersun:

Sadness And Hate

Sad night, the weeper of starwind sky
Take me where the shimmering lights are fading out
Through the shadows of hate and through the fires of grace
I followed the voice in the night, beautiful as black sky,
But nothing I found

My thoughts are captured by the magical chants
Of the spirits, but I cannot see them with these dead eyes
Lost I am in these dismal streams
Lost I am forever in my life

The snow is falling on the withering leaves, I am left in the cold
The shadows are crying in the moonlight
Is this night the last of my life

Have we arrived from our journey, I must ask you now
At last I can cry, 'cause these sad words are calling me tonight
My eyes bleed for you my star, my pride and the love of my heart
But why did you had to fly so far, I raged and it tore me apart
I promise to you with sadness and hate
Wherever I might go, you will know...

I give my life to the withering leaves
To the bleeding moonlight
To the crying shadows
I GIVE MY LIFE TO YOU

Death And The Healing

A windstorm dropped a bird from the sky
It fell to the ground and it's wings broke and died
But when the time got by, back to sky it flied
'cause the wings healed in time and the bird was I

Time is the death and the healing
Take your last breath, 'cause death is deceiving
Time is the past, now and tomorrow
Days fly so fast and it leaves me so hollow

A snowstorm blew inside a wolf's eyes
And the frozen tears covered all the mountainsides
But then the time got by and the wolf died
And someday that wolf would be I


Linkovi

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Lord Byron; Prometheus

TITAN! to whose immortal eyes
The sufferings of mortality,
Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise;
What was thy pity's recompense?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The suffocating sense of woe,
Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh
Until its voice is echoless.

Titan! to thee the strife was given
Between the suffering and the will,
Which torture where they cannot kill;
And the inexorable Heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of Fate,
The ruling principle of Hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate,
Refus'd thee even the boon to die:
The wretched gift Eternity
Was thine--and thou hast borne it well.
All that the Thunderer wrung from thee
Was but the menace which flung back
On him the torments of thy rack;
The fate thou didst so well foresee,
But would not to appease him tell;
And in thy Silence was his Sentence,
And in his Soul a vain repentance,
And evil dread so ill dissembled,
That in his hand the lightnings trembled.

Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,
To render with thy precepts less
The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen Man with his own mind;
But baffled as thou wert from high,
Still in thy patient energy,
In the endurance, and repulse
Of thine impenetrable Spirit,
Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse,
A mighty lesson we inherit:
Thou art a symbol and a sign
To Mortals of their fate and force;
Like thee, Man is in part divine,
A troubled stream from a pure source;
And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny;
His wretchedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence:
To which his Spirit may oppose
Itself--and equal to all woes,
And a firm will, and a deep sense,
Which even in torture can descry
Its own concenter'd recompense,
Triumphant where it dares defy,
And making Death a Victory.

Eshil; Iz Okovanog Prometeja

Then beneath the earth those hidden blessings for man, bronze, iron, silver and gold—who can claim to have discovered before me? No one, I am sure, who wants to speak to the purpose. In one short sentence understand it all: every art of mankind comes from Prometheus.

Hear now the sorry tale
Of mortal man. A thing of no avail
He was, until a living mind I wrought
Within him, and new mastery of thought.
I cast no blame on man; I do but crave
To show what love was in the gifts I gave.
I tell you, sight they had but saw in vain;
Hearing, but heard not; as shapes wax and wane
In dreams, aimless for ever and confused,
They moved; no binding of the clay they used,
No craft of wood, to build in the bright sun
Their dwellings; but like feeble ants wind-blown,
Hid them in crannied caves, far from the day;
No seasons did they know, no signs to say
When winter cold should come, nor flowery spring,
Nor summer with his fruit, but everything
They did was without knowledge, till their eyes
Were oped by me to see the stars that rise,
And them that sink to heaven's obscurer parts.
Then Number, Number, queen of all the arts,
I showed them, and the craft which stroke to stroke
Added, till words came and the letters spoke;
The all-remembering wonder, the unworn
And edged tool, whence every Muse is born.
Beasts of the forest and the field I broke
To harness, made them servants to the yoke
And carriers who might lift from man the pain
Of extreme toil; I hanselled to the rein
The gentle steed, and in the chariot tied
For rich men who would glory in their pride.
I made, none else, for mariners the free
And flaxen-winged chariots of the sea.
Alas, all these new wisdoms I could find
For mortals, but no wisdom to unbind
These mine own fetters -- nay, nor hope of it.
On me the tempest falls. It does not make me tremble. O holy Mother Earth, O air and sun, behold me. I am wronged.

RUŠEVINE BETHMOORE*


* * *


Okorjelo more zelenkastih vala,
Uzduž strmih obala nariče spokoj kamenu,
Od dana svoje smrti kad izađoh na svjetlo,
U praznine sivila turobnih močvara.

Korakom trupla kroz mračna mlada ljeta,
Uzdah violina je oblio strune konjskog repa,
Slijepog ždrijepca koji snio je krila,
I pao u žar kotla na peći.

Bezlična kao kip u sjenama krhotina,
Staklo je surovo onima bez duše,
Moja je svjetlost umorno odjezdila
U sumračna platna crvenog smiraja.

Oživi me nanovo,zloduše umjetnosti,
Nek' poniru mi boli gladno u tvoje ruke,
I krv je stvarnija od prikaza bijelih,
Saspi njen grimiz u prozirne mi oči!

Daj mi svoj dah,nek' isisa sreću,
Prostrimo žalobne vapaje samotnosti,
Vrisak sanjive oštrice na vratu,
I patit' je draže nego ne živjeti!


* * *


Viseće luči prostrle se bršljanom,
Konjica naleta vjetrenih snova,
Miomiris gnjileži ljubičaste pustare,
I suhih ukopnina lelujavih grana.

Pustih li dvora usred neviđenog grada,
Oči blagorodnog što izgubiše snagu,
Sad slušaju vatru iz kamina hladnih odaja,
Izgovaraju riječi što suše jezera stvaranja.

Bezvremenski drvorez na ulazima u bjelokost,
Utiskuje runu svojoj kćeri na čelo,
Otječe Vilinzemlja od istočnih strana,
Pozdravlja tek smijeh zalutalog djeteta!

Kralju moj davni,usnuli su bogovi,
Sanjali grmljavinu što pokosi dječaka,
U opalnim gradovima gdje igrala se Zora
S zlatnom kuglom vremena što ceri se bezubo.

Perzijancu na usnama rodi se Bethmoora,
I kula španjolska što usni Saracene,
Raspadajući prah čovjeka na dnu mora,
Čiji duh nikad ne napusti tužne svoje ostatke.

Žalosnim je poljem projahao pjesnik,
Što plakaše jer će postati bojište,
Prorok je zastao pod plaštevima pustinje,
A vladar broji kamenje u spiljama Kaija!

BORKNAGAR:


THE EYE OF ODEN

Up there on the mountain, above all fire,
the fields down there and the ravine below
Where the elements feast in reckless desire

A raven is seated
Where the sun cannot reach,
only teriffic storms prevail
In a thunderin' havoc they ruthlessly roar

My heart it beats the pulse of ancient times
The countless rythem, the rattling stones
My weapon cleanse the filth of all bones

Tender are the havens
wich remain on the open plains
The shadow crawls
upon the resort of the remnaints
Even toward the hills lie shattered shields

The winter it hunts all their hearts in fear
And the river drifts with the resolution of thunder

Infernal are the storms in wich our shelter stand
Their strongest grip of fear, and our shelter tear

Up there on the mountain, above all fire,
the fields down there and the ravine below
He beholds a kingdom of grace, savage yet fair

THE WINTERWAY

Awakened by the hands of Autumn
The hands which made me sleep
Was a shadow vague yet deep

A creature, spine of the essence
Drifting in the wind, clad as Sin
The force behind my cause
The hands that fold me within

Awakened beneath a restless sky
By mountains which darken the day
Shadows, spiritual dust of my fathers
- The heart and soul of my way -

A creature, spine of the essence
Drifting in the wind, clad as Sin
The force behind my cause
Grim token of the path within

The Winterway
Leads us through the coldest night
The Winterway
To be walked by all men of might

Behold the ice on the big seas
The summits and the naked trees
Ashore the bay through the rough Winterway

A TALE OF PAGAN TONGUE

The sun descended to the ground
Behind the mountains, in the sea
A one-eyed man wanders sullen to the highest hill
There he will survey over those surviving will

The flaming shores are yet unseen
In spite of dawn, the horizon sleeps
The sea gleams with lethal cold
Witness yourself here, alone yet bold

The night is born, the christlings thorn
The sun seems dead and somehow forlorn
And the moon lurks above

The beasts they howl her song
Told to be unchained at the day of doom
Their random laws, taught by the Gods
Are to be redeemed when He sets sail

There will forever be this ancient tounge
Primal wisdom from natures own longue

Count the shores of the utter coast
And fear peace forever most
When time is ripe to revive the past
Let us see who stands triumphant

The echoes of cosmic strife
Borne to the one-eyed man
By the ravens of reminiscence

THE MOUNTAINS ROVE

I came from the utter fields
Carving shame on the tender shields
On my path I wandered high
Acknowledged beneath the sky
The hate I carried, recalling why!

I walked towards the rising Autumn
And cursed the summer
with the promis of a Winter
Where my foes will quiver in frost
A circeling saga, not forever lost

I came from the utter fields
Carving shame on the tender shields
On my path I wandered high
Declaring war beneath the sky
The hate I carried, boiling within!

I mounted all the hills my eyes could count
And roved wherever the sun escaped sight

I drifted from the deepest tarn
Till I saw my saw my name in aruinic sign
Graven soo deep in the crystal bark
Of a lodge I sojourned years ago

Crying war beneath the sky

GRIMLAND DOMAIN

The silence was utter, the sleep was long
A torment for even the brave
Peals of thunder even did not forsake
The lifeless soil of this eternal-white land

A domain of no mercy - White, so bright
As a day of calm, flawless might
Beware the coming of night
The shade of essential ingenuity
Acknowledge the darkness, link of dawn

The branches hung low
Softly covered by snow
Even the strongest will
Recoil beneath their silent chill

See the plains so eternally white
Bright, in spite of even the night
To be where the eagles fly
With a haughty hunters eye

Feel the kiss of the silver draped frost
Your age-old toil, haunted and lost
High up there, where His ravens once flew
The lightning strikes - even deep in the snow

"You have to wake, wipe the ice from your eyes"

THE DAWN OF THE END

Pale like the skull of the sun
The way of the hunting moon
O storms that reign supreme
The breeze comes whisperin' soon

Strike the flowers' last gleam
In spite of desperate fight, their power
Leave no shores where the torrents stream

Mountains highest hills
Fragments, beheaded formations
The cosmic rivers curse
Denial of all recreation

Wind, Water, Earth, Fire - Invincible!

Autumn-twice, Winter-thrice
River and Rock
A new kingdom rise
I close my eyes


BAL-SAGOTH:

BATTLE MAGIC

Sorcerers and shamans, weave your spells of war,
Ensure our mighty sword-arms are the strongest and the quickest.
Entwine us with great battle magic 'til we stand knee-deep in gore,
And by all the gods, we'll ride to where the fray rages the thickest!

The war-song of the Wolves of Caylen-Tor,
as heard at the Battle of Blackhelm Vale.

A TALE FROM THE DEEP WOODS

The ravens are on the wing!

My scramasax is red (stained with the blood of many Mercian warriors),
The ravens are on the wing,
By Offa's decree I am an outlaw,
Branded wolfshead by my own king.
(The orm-garth awaits me, darkly astir with ophidian malice...)

The ravens are on the wing!

Ash for our spear-hafts,
Yew for our bow-staves,
Oak for our deck planks,
Oak and elder our shields.

Hail, o' great liege of the ancient woods, ruler of the deepest forest... you,
who were reigning o'er your time-veiled kingdom centuries before the arrogant
men who proclaim themselves kings of this island ever supped of life's
bitter-sweet draught...

I give you my hail,
I give you my blood,
I give you my life,
O' sylvan liege.

My life bleeds forth unto the earth (from many deep and dire wounds), To slake
your roots, great old king... (as I rest my battle-ravaged body against
thee.)

The ravens are on the wing!

Ten leagues ride on lathered steed,
Gold in hand to a sword-for-hire,
A blood-eagle carved by Saxon steel,
And two score slain earns royal ire.

Gwynned lies two days westwards,
Still further south, the weregeld calls.
Mayhap with All-Father Woden's favour,
My deeds may yet inspire the skalds.

Litha's moon gleams high o'er the tallest oak,
Ancient king in this sylvan court of elm, ash and yew,
The wood-spirits watch from gnarled bough and bole,
As I pull two Mercian shafts from my bloodied thews.

The ravens are on the wing!

I give you my hail,
I give you my blood,
I give you my life,
O' sylvan liege.

Beneath the oak, I rest, bone weary,
Thirsting for a horn of ale or jug of mead,
And yet how could a heathen man wish for any more,
Than the healing balms of English trees?

The ravens are on the wing!

THYRFING:

RAVEN'S EYES


Black shapes cross the sky
Once guardians of the pagan kingdom
Christian men took our land
But they did not take our pride

Ravens wont give you any blame
'Cause no words shall be said
They will just rip out your eyes
And eat your precious heart

Raven eyes watch from the sky
You better stay in the shadows
You better stay unseen

Crusaders of the cross rape the pagan land
A father and his son watch the troops
Knights in shining armour and horses to carry their gold
"Oh, please father, let me be a christian knight"

Crusaders of the cross rape the pagan land
A raven and his son watch from above
Wimps in womens clothing and mules to carry their shit
"Oh, please father, let me rip their eyes out"

VARGAVINTER

Vargavinter - asars vrede...
Vargavinter - vinden pinar...
Vargavinter - frosten dodar...

Lange har de vilat ut i Asgards starka famn
Lange de glomda varit av Midgards nya folk

Inga boner hjalper deras nya gud
Ty han har frusit ihjal

Hans ljus kommer att slackas...

Vargavinter - asars vrede...
Vargavinter - vinden pinar...
Vargavinter - frosten dodar...

HEDNALAND

Jag har lange vandrat pa denna stig
Jag har sett hednars och kristnas krig
Jag har stolt vandrat vidare
Jag har varit en ensam krigare

Skogen verkade vara andlos
Skogen som aldrig skulle bli
Lurad av vite krists hyckleri

Nu verkar skogen vara doende
Skovlad av goda man i blindo
Forblindade av en falsk gud

Nu nar ni overlamnat oss
Till prasters galenskap
Vi inte langre far slass
Vi ar fast i fangenskap
Men vi ger aldrig upp
Vi skall kampa for var tro
Ty valkyria till Odin oss tar
Var allsmaktige enogde far

WOTAN'S FIRE

The fire that burns in the hall of the slain
Is the wrath of the speargod himself
The allseing father
God of gods, for wisdom he gave his eye

Betrayers will burn, betrayers will die
His light will never fade
Deny your origins, deny your belief
And die by the everlasting fire...

[Chorus:]
His fire is stronger than steel
You can try to save your empire
Your wounds will never heal
Try to run from Wotan's fire

Tyrfing's blade will reach you all
And slay the ones in our way
We are the army of the north
The army of pride
Which is never to fall

The call of the gods are our call into war
And we will stay and fight
We bring the fire of metal, we bring the fire of hate
So die by Wotan's fire



EINHERJER:



FAR FAR NORTH

Northwards and netherwards
Where towered a dreary palace
She, the ruler of misty Hel ere waiting for you in the hall of death
Hoartfrosted sick-bed hordes trudge
Murderers and oathbreakers
On a crowded path of death yes, to Hel comes the most.

Betrayed be her father, her mother be distress
Mournful beauty, her face half black, half flesh
Tears of sorrow falls like pearls onto the ground
Odin: Send her far away and let her evil do no harm
Send her to Niflhel, to theuttermost peak
Her blood can never in this hall of honour reek

Far Far North
North of Ginnunngagap
Where she rules supreme
In lonely majesty
Soak shall be her home
In death's eternal winter she alone
Welcome to her frosty home
Far Far North

On the ness I now stand
Oh, death would be so sweet
But my fate was rusty sealed
My vengance comes wrapped in sleet
My powers but grow and grow
Come to me, come to me
Ragnarokkr I shall sow
When all chains break I'll be free

Children red with weeping and a howling bloodsmeared hound
Wrapped in Bedridden saved a place for the weak
Across the burning bridge and through the gate of Hel
Horrid visions the prophetess saw from where the dead from Hel decend
Many men entombed in frost in the ninth realm
Into the deepest pit she saw

A hall she saw stand
far from the sun
It's doors facing north
on Corpse Strand
Drops of poison
dripped through the smoke-hole;
The hall wattled
with serpents backs
She saw there wading
through tubulent waters
Men forsworn
and murderers


1. Dragons Of The North

Odin, great warlord, I greed you with hail
This new god is weaker of class
Grant me thy powers, your secrets unveil
And I'll kick this christ right in the ass


DREAMSTORM

For ages I have drifted
Through storms & mists of grey
With knowledge I've been gifted
path to lead me way
Alone in realms of shadows
My solitude I seek
I poison therefore my arrow
aim it at the weak

Silently I welcome
The glorious mis of dreams
Time to send the heroes home
Their end justify my means
Dawn of death, tears of chaos
Echoes in my mind
It pleased me, I am satisfied

Closing in on death's desire
Through I am not alone
With me comes my fear & fire
a destiny unknown
My twilight affects me
Drifting still in dreams
A gate appears in front of me
Weary visions floats in streams

Come my winds - My Dreamstorm
Soon shall I forever sleep
Pale have I become
Who shall for my fading weep
For faded I have done


3. The Forever Empire

I still dream of paradise
I still wake up crying
I've seen the sun, of tomorrow rise
I felt like I was dying
I still dream of forever
I still see me wave
From the deepest pits of never
Another soul to save

I still long for the sun to rise
I still fear the dark
I've seen the signs of our last goodbyes
Another submerging ark
In bitterness I've tasted my tears
A burnt out soul of emptiness
I loneliness I've touched my fears
closed my eyes for hopelessness

Sail the waves of lunacy
Bring my presence out of never
The forever waves of my time to be
I set my sails for forever
Sail the waves of silent sea
In empty winds under rainbow fire
The forever winds won't let me be
Wake me up from my forever empire

I am my paradise
Through my damnation you'll fall
I am the wise
In my eternity I am all
You ask of me my sanity
Divided you shall fall
Your soul shall burn most certainly
Below me you will crawl

I am my own eternity
My creations will not fall
Dream or not it's real to me
Your becoming I prevail
From my fists burns my fire
The emperor of my empire
Butt where will be a better day
Even I am doomed to fade away

Sail the waves of lunacy
Bring my presence out of never
The forever waves of my time to be
I set my sails for forever
Sail the waves of silent sea
In empty winds under rainbow fire
The forever winds has left me
I am fading through the stars, my desire


THE CONQUERER

Waiting for the morning
For the sun to climb the mountains
For the wind & the waves to answer my call
My sword lays beside me
My ship lays ashore
But few to fight by my side

The snow is slowly falling
And gently caress my skin
Where the steel ripped my flesh
Mu quest is now ended
My home for my awaits
Where she prays for my return

When the winds are calling me
I raise my sword with pride
Full of hate & agony
Through the storms I ride
Fear is not yet known me
Fight me & you'll see
The vikingblood is strong in me
The conqueror I'll be

Rans web is avoided
Tall mountains salute me
Home is home again to me
I know by now
What matters to me
And those involved knows to...

Thunderstorms are raging
Across the churningsea
Towards the northern sky
Awaits the northern stars
The four winds are gathered
Legions of pride awaits me
As I hail the land of frost


5. The Fimbul Winter

On the other side we'll stand
We're the strong
In another world we'll meet
You'll be suffering one
On the other side we'll fight
With swords of steel
In another world we'll win
You'll worship us and kneel
You'll be the suffering one
On the other side we'll fight
With swords of steel

Then a storm shall arise
Turning the skies black
Send up a howling wind
Across the churning sea
That's just the beginning of
What awaits us all
The next three years shall be
Without summer or joy to man

The sign shall be - The blazing sky
The sign shall be - The grimmest cold
The sign shall be - The freezing winds of frost
The sign shall be - The Fimbul Winter

On the other side you'll meet
Blades of steel
In another world you'll meet
Axes swung by hatred strong

On the other side you'll fight
The gods alliged
In another world you'll fall
Our wrath will find you all
Axes swung by hatred strong
On the other side you'll fight
The gods alliged

With fire and frost
We'll tear your limbs apart
With hammers and swords
We'll crush your warrior
With wisdom and strength
We'll conquer your troops
With hunger and pain
You will remember us

Bright shall shine the sun divine
And unsowed field shall grow
Trees shall grow and rivers flow
Through woods as green as man
Has ever seen
Brighter every day she'll shine
The Mother of our lives
Though I don't want to live to see
The day Ragnarok take our lives away


6. Storms Of The Elder

Awaken thou one eyed God
Rise again from the slumber!
Give us a touch of the elder strenght
Flowing in your veins
And give us again the courage to crush
The embers of the faded ones

A lightning ripped the sky
The signs of ancient beliefs enlighten
The inner chambers
Of forbidden knowledge
Oh, rise the storm of elder

Let again Gungnir fly
Into the chests of Giants,
And release again thte power
Of your eight-leggend horse
Ride again in front of the Oskorei
And lead fear into hearts of men
Enlighten the path for those of the elder spirit
And quide them into glory

We entered a long gone and forgotten valley
It's habitants flames of lie long gone
Ceased by a dark and ancient plague
In the heart of this forbitten place
We awakened the spirit of the past
And we entered the dawn
Of the slumbering one

Odin opened his eye
And looked out into the world
He lifted his arms to the sky
And called for he other gods
And commanded them to awaken
From their ages of slumber
Again their rose from the ground
For there where still embers
Of the lost faith of them
In the halls of Valhalla











Glođu me zime pustoši gnjevne,
Ognjeni orli sirovog mraka,
I omotah bijes u platno crvene pjene,
Od željeznih grudiju iskovah glas.
Sjene grakćućeg oka planine što pije,
Nikad ni ne slutih da klicat će umiranju,
Uz mukli prasak se lome snažne ruke,
Privijajući strasno svoj mač na obraze.
O,oružje moje,sami smo od svijeta,
Spjevat ću ti magiju od krvavih daljina,
I urezat ću ti povijest na korice blijede,
Da ju nikada više ne spomeneš…
* * *
Sanjah da koračam gustim šumama;
Otvorenim ranama živućega svijeta,
I krvi njegovoj kojoj ponestade ognja,
Da unutarnjem krznu ja primičem zube.
A voljeh dane na zmajevu pramcu,
I pleter na drvu od moje strasti skladan,
Sad oplakuje me koža mojeg vučjeg brata,
Sad raznosi me čelik magle moje grimizne.
Da,sanjah Midgard kako primiče se k meni,
Zimzelen svoj trup oko duha mojeg ovija,
Tone u bespuća nesanice moje,
Mora su se moja povukla iz luka.
Povukla,jer lađe više ne jecaju,
Ne protežu svoje prste ka obali koju snivam,
Zmajev moj rod miruje pod zemljom,
U toplini njene srži,reže vlasi vječnosti.
Bješe ondje moja spilja,
Sad joj medvjed skute grije,
A suze joj vučje poplaviše vrata,
I ostatke Drevnih u gorja polegoše.
Nestade mojih puta,
Obrisali ih krici,
Sagorjele ruke ognjenih kočija,
Tek jedan stih moj još u vjetru pjeva:
„Ni slavni Sjever više ne zna gdje Beowulf spava…“

* * *
Gone me vuci mrke divljine,
Krv mi u snovima hlapi za slobodom,
Odumire meso od očaja sivog,
Mir je u smrti,mir je u smrti…
Hropće mi duh otekao od strasti i žestine,
Razlijeva se bijes iz trulog prsnog koša,
Spajaju i lede se prsti moje zime,
Ne gasite mi oganj,ne gasite mi oganj…
Od hladnoće grizem surove mi usne,
U kosi još miris poganskih oltara,
Crnogoricu ispisujem rukom divljeg skalda;
Pjesnika saga mojih drevnih dana.
Polumrtve duše skupljene na svodu,
Mašta se moja razara o stijene,
Kao vali oštri što dotiču lađe,
Na snažnim plećima tužnoga Sjevera…

Tuga je u onih koji pokopahu svoje bogove.
* * *


Stolen child

WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen chetries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefull of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,.
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To to waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For be comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you.
William Butler Yeats(1865-1939)
Thyrfing:
Mjolner


Ett tecken for Svearikets styrka
En symbol for svunnen prakt
Enande for oss som funnit nordens sanna styrka
Enande for oss som arar svunnen makt

Den kraftiga aska du bringar
Buren av guden som fardas av bockar dragen
Och nar han Hrungners dod svingar
da ekar de maktiga hammarslagen


Du som skapar det maktigaste av dan
Du som drapte Jordens gordel
Du som svingas av Jordens son
Du som aro tursars bodel

Ett vapen av stal som aldrig ger vika
Talet kring din styrka kanns oandligt
Vi din anda aldrig kunnat svika
Heimdalls soner dig bar standigt

Aven nu da mangen forlust ar liden
Vi bar dig, av Sindre smiden
Pa brostet vi dig stolt skall bara
Evigt trotsande varldslig fara


Pa brostet vi dig stolt skall bara
Evigt trotsande varldslig fara
Vi som nordens sanna ande ara
Vi som en dag till Valhall fara

Du, som Baldersbalet helgade
Du, som krossade de som Odens son vredgade










The hosting of the Sidhe

W.B.Yeats
The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
Our breasts are heaving our eyes are agleam,
Our arms are waving our lips are apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,
We come between him and the deed of his hand,
We come between him and the hope of his heart.
The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away.

Emily Bronte(1818-1848)

Osjetila tad zamru,i osjećam svoju unutarnju bit,
njena su krila gotovo slobodna,njen dom,
njena luka,znani;pred provalijom staje,mjeri
i usuđuje se na posljednji skok.
O,strašno li je buđenje-bolna li je agonija,
kad bilo ritam svoj nađe,
i mozak opet vidi misao,
duša osjeća meso,
a meso osjeća lance!

* * *
Čvrsto stojim,premda podnijeh,
gnjev,mržnju i gorak rug,
čvrsto stojim i sa smijehom gledam,
kako ljudstvo sa mnom se bori!

* * *
Tužna je bila misao,
da je čovječanstvo isprazno,podlo,neiskreno-
no,još je gore bilo vjerovati mom umu
i pronaći u njemu istu izopačenost!

Duša patnju svoju,samo sebi priznat smije!

Korpiklaani:With trees
Far, far away, where the birch wouldn't grow
Far, far away and where the wind freezes your face
There you won't be alone

I would rather fly with eagles, to the snow hills
I would rather run with wolves, between the trees
I would rather be with trees, than in the middle of noisy streets

So far away, My mind flies to the moon
Far, far away, I can see what happens soon
And what's most important

Kadet siipina

Niin hilijaisen,
n¤en hilijaisen
n¤en kulkueen miin mustan,
niin tunman mustan
hiljaisen n¤en surussa kulkevan
k¤det on siipin¤, niin on k¤det suojana
suojana siivet silm¤in
surun silm¤in, k¤det siipin¤
eess¤ mustan hunnun
kulkueen n¤en l¤nteen,
hiljaa, niin lipuu hiljaa l¤nteen
kulkueen niin tumman leskein,
niin mustan nuornain leskein
jol k¤det siipin¤, suojana silm¤in
k¤et siipin¤ leskein
hiljaa kuulen surun laulun,
kuulen laulun katkeran
hyrin¤n hyisen leskein,
kivun tunnen kivun kuoleman
n¤en min¤ tumman taivaan,
palavan taivaanrannan min¤ n¤¤n
tuulesta kuulen hyisen huuon
sodan kylm¤n huuon.

[Hands As Their Wings]

So silent, I see, oh so silent
I see the procession so black, oh so dark, so dark
silent I see the procession of sorrow,
hands as their wings, shielding are the hands
shielding the eyes are the wings
the eyes of sorrow, hans as wings
in front of the black veil.

I see the procession westbound
silently gliding westbound
the procession of widows so dark
so dark the young widows
whose hands as wings shielding their eyes
hands as wings of the widows.

Quietly I hear the song of sorrow, I hear the song so bitter
humming of the frozen widow, I fell the pain, the grief of death
I see the dark sky, the horizon burning I see
I hear the chilling call in the wind
the cold call of war,
the cold call of war,
the cold call of war.

Journey man

I was born in a deep forest
I wish I could live here all my life
I am made from stones and roots
My home, these woods and roads

All my life I loved this sound
Of the woods all around
Eagles flies where the winds blows free
Journey is my destiny

Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight
Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight

Ragged trousers, rucksack in my back
Narrow road behind me
I never look back
Long way is in the past
As in front of me
Hunger keeps me going
I don't care where it leads
Fire burns under my feet
Journey men pleasure and destiny
Sky is black, stars shows me the way
Moon shispered how to keep my faith

Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight

Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight

Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight

Free, free as a journey man
Feel, heat in the moonlight




subota, 11.04.2009.

Krvopis i orhideje

* * *

Rukama smo proždirali okamine u sleđenoj zemlji podno bodljikave žice,sačinjene od kose,zubi,očnih jabučica i noktiju nekog raskomadanog stvaralaštva koje se sada gušilo u prašini zimzelenih snoviđenja. Kada nemate usta pokušavate probiti mumificiranu kožu betona koja vam pritišće donji dio čeljusti.Kao hram koji čovječanstvo više nikada ne smije iskopati.Kao drvene daske putujućeg teatra sjena koje se kreće između kontura pomičućih svemira.Papirnati su.Kreću se pod udarcima konca.Lepršaju na atmosferi.Tako izgledaju svemiri dok se liježu iz trećih oka bogova koji se spremaju na počinak.

Srebrna tinta na odrezanim jagodicama podsjeća na prah leptirovih krila.Ova je priča i počela s leptirom.Jednodnevni život je besmislen kada Kronos razjapljuje čeljusti i ubija svaki protok,svaku kauzalnost pretače u legure sinkronije,buši rupe među zavijucima pletera. Restauratori mitova oprezno gledaju pod lupom u istekle ljudske tradicije.Paze da isprave udarcem kista svaku blijedu sjenku,da je prišiju za pravu petu i odlože,onako kao svršene spise,na policu arhiva Knjižnica Kaosa.Ondje će im se možda jednoga dana suditi,a možda ti siroti zapisi i postoje samo da bi nas naučili što sve moramo promijeniti do slobode. Možda nas neuspjela iskustva svih tih bogova uče kako stvoriti Nordeiju.

Nema nikoga na Kuli Bjelokosnoj. Zaobilaze nas užarene koprene košmara u nesvrstanim pokretima nadolazećih lađa,duhova jedrenjaka koji se zalijeću u obale na koje nikada nisu pristali, fluorescentni ćor-sokaci u bicepsima Carcassona u koji stanoviti on nikada nije došao…Stanoviti on između dva života i neizbježne tri smrti.On,koji je preuzeo prsten s običnim komadom stijene,zalog okova i boli nekoga kojeg je neutješno oplakivao i volio.Na njegovom je davnom,prvom sprovodu taj netko nosio njegovo tijelo i položio ga u čamac,pustio ga da otječe i pogodio gorućom strijelom. U mojoj ćeš vatri zauvijek živjeti! Na nekom trinaestom je kraju bilo obrnuto.On je nosio njegovo tijelo omotano u crvene plahte nakon što mu je duh utekao kroz usta i raspršio se,oblikovavši se vjerojatno tek u jednog leptira,onog istog kojeg je sanjao i njegov otac,nadajući se oprostu. Položio ga je na odar i okružio bakljama.Činilo mu se da neće imati snage da mu zapali tijelo,da uništi tu praznu ljepotu koja u tom trenutku više i nije bila toliko lijepa.Tek podsjetnik nekadašnjeg sjaja i ništa više.Na kraju je to ipak učinio,znajući da je vrijeme kratko.U mojoj ćeš vatri zauvijek živjeti!- ponovio je. I ne samo u vatri. U svakom migu postojanja onih sretnika koji su ti bili suborci, jahali rame uz rame s tobom…jedino traćenje vremena bilo je ograđivanje i bježanje od tebe,izbjegavanje tvojeg oka.Taj nek' pečat izjeda one koji su ga ponijeli na čelu.

Režnjevi vasione izgledaju kao odjeljci sanatorija.Ondje je Zeus doveo druge bogove nakon što je preuzeo vlast nad njima i dao ih vezati za drvene klupe.Kožno im je remenje stiskalo zglobove i glavu. Miris praznine dopirao je s hodnika,a zveckanje instrumenata dovodilo ih je do ludila.Kao i kapanje vode s nekog slivnika. Tak. Tak. Tak.Tak.Bezlične ruke obavijene plastičnim rukavicama koje su mirisale na svježe dezinficirani očaj polako su im se spustile na čelo.Osjetili su hladan uzdah čeličnog šiljka.A onda je zavladao mrak.Čekao je pomno da se probude kako bi prvo vidjeli njegovo lice i čuli ono što im on ima za reći.Ja sam vaš bog,vaš stvoritelj.Prije mene nije bilo ničega,a tako će ostati i poslije mene.

Kada se probudio osjetio je tupu bol u glavi.Kao da mu je nešto tutnjalo unutra, cvrkutalo poput srca na žaru.Podigao je ruke u razinu svojih očiju i primijetio ljubičaste modrice na njima.S teškim se naporom podigao,osjetivši bol u prsima i u nožnim zglobovima. Trljajući si ruke, uspravio se na drvenoj klupi.Osvrnuvši se u tami, ugledao je još jedan ležaj.Osoba na njemu još je spavala.Olabavljene ruke, također oblivene modricama,mlohavo su padale s ležaja,kao i uvojci njegove smeđe kose koja se doimala poput visećih stjegova. Polako mu se prišuljao nadvivši se nad njega.Bio je lijep i nekako poznat.Natjerao ga je da se nasmiješi.A tada je stvor otvorio oči i njihovi su se pogledi isprepleli u beskraj.Nekoliko kapljica krvi s njegove kože na licu kapnulo mu je na usta.Obliznuo se.Ne znam tko smo,ni odakle smo,ali obećaj mi da se nećemo razdvajati.

Moj prijatelju,najdraži moj,

Stojim sam na rubovima Mjesečeve tvrđe i gledam kako se zlaćane zmije proganjaju ružičastim oklopom svoda.Istina je da se s nekih drugih kula vidi sav raskoš Carstva,blještave palače,vrtovi,goruće kupole i magijske zidine,ali ti si oduvijek najviše volio ovo samotno mjesto.Kada sam te jednom upitao zašto, rekao si da je to jedino mjesto u Berylu odakle se,za iznimno bistrih noći,mogu ugledati udaljeni obrisi Malkutha.Još uvijek te vidim,blago zasjenjena sanjiva pogleda, s onim sporim,zaleđenim smiješkom, kako naslonjen na plavičaste zidine gledaš i sanjaš o svojem najdražem od svjetova.Bio si sve što mi je značilo.Najljepši sjaj svijeta u kojem smo zajedno živjeli.Nakon tebe je sve nekako ugaslo i utihnulo. Smiraj. Melankolija u tryonskim vrtovima.Opustjela stara prijestolnica, sjedište paučine zaborava. Svjetlo moje svjetlosti.Želim prestati gledati unatrag u te izgubljene godine,ta udaljena zlatna mnogovenija. Možda konačno oprostiti sebi i zaustaviti mazohističko prisjećanje, svjedočanstvo moje krivice, mojeg srama.Želim živjeti.Ponovno spoznati zvuk riječi „dalje“,prestati postojati u obrnutom smjeru od kolotečina budućnosti. Tko će mi pomoći da ti konačno kažem što ti nikada nisam rekao, praveći se potajno da si još ovdje,ne prihvaćajući crni mlaz istine?Da ti kažem zbogom. Hoćeš li biti toliko plemenit kao i uvijek i pustiti me da idem s mirom?Hoćeš li prestati harati mojom glavom,bjesnjeti mojom dušom,hoćeš li ugasiti taj gorki oganj nad pepelom koji je ostao od mene?Ispljunuti moje srce iz svojih usta?Pustiti da klizneš grkljanom prošlosti zato da bi me konačno oslobodio?Ja te volim, prijatelju.Ali ne mogu više živjeti misleći na tebe, zatočen u okovima tvojeg oka,ovisan o ugrizu tvojeg smijeha,opsjednut tvojim riječima i zvukom tvoga glasa.Moram ozdraviti.Oprosti mi, moram ozdraviti…

Zujanje muha.Umjereno.Balzamirajući dosadno.Nije znao odakle dopire,ali miješalo se s vodom iz slivnika na rubu Bijele sobe.Bio je to rđosani slivnik ustajale vode boje bakra.Sterilni sanatorij,siguran kao kutija za lutke u kojem mu se činilo da vidi nizove vješala kako se lagano ljuljuškaju iznad njegove glave i spuštaju samostojeće škare. Krenule su prema mesu njegovog čela i izrezale ondje maleni pravokutnik. Činilo mu se da ono što odande izvire prikazuje bolnički odjel prepun osoba koje spavaju na bijelim krevetima, prikopčane na aparate dok im se jabučice,a povremeno i paralizirano tijelo, miču. Somnambulizam, mjesečarenje, poremećaji spavanja.Stanje na granici između budnosti i sna,svijesti i podsvijesti.Kao da se nekoliko njih otrglo i podiglo svoja tijela,vukući žice za sobom,bijelih očiju koje su ubrzano treptale.Nisu vidjeli skalpel na ramenu,omču oko vrata,pravokutnike na mesu glave,zabetonirana usta.Stvarno nije znao odakle dolazi to prokleto zujanje!Tek kao da su te odurne životinjice otvorile usta i progovorile ljudskim glasom;

Zeuse…Zeuse…



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