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Literature Text
(english version and musical link below)
Notre Forteresse Brûle
Nous glissions telles des ombres
Sur le gris blanc des limbes
Livrés au vent d'abîme
De décembre
Puisqu'il faut s'offrir des pierres
Baisers longs de silence
Dons muets telle mort
En décembre
Oh n'avoir plus grelottant
De bras de bois de feu
C'est venir d'où de quoi
De décembre
Elle aura flambé trop vide
Réchauffant notre abîme
L'instant où tout existe
En décembre
Danse de brume de cendres
Cette montagne seule
Ou s'exsanguent les âmes
De décembre
Notre Forteresse Brûle
Va fuis existe et vole
Je reste au fond du feu
En décembre
Frantz, décembre 2011.
..............................................................
Our Fortress Is Burning
As shadows we slide
On the grey white limbo
Delivered to the abyss' wind
Of December
Since we need to give each other stones
Kisses long with silence
Gifts as muted as death
In December
To no longer have shivering
Arms of wood's fire
Means coming of where of what
Of December
It would have burn in such an empty blaze
Warming our abyss
That moment when all exist
In December
Dance of fog and ashes
This lonely mountain
Where souls drain their blood
Of December
Our Fortress is burning
Go flee be and fly
I remain in the heart of the pyre
In December
Frantz, December 2011
Notre Forteresse Brûle
Nous glissions telles des ombres
Sur le gris blanc des limbes
Livrés au vent d'abîme
De décembre
Puisqu'il faut s'offrir des pierres
Baisers longs de silence
Dons muets telle mort
En décembre
Oh n'avoir plus grelottant
De bras de bois de feu
C'est venir d'où de quoi
De décembre
Elle aura flambé trop vide
Réchauffant notre abîme
L'instant où tout existe
En décembre
Danse de brume de cendres
Cette montagne seule
Ou s'exsanguent les âmes
De décembre
Notre Forteresse Brûle
Va fuis existe et vole
Je reste au fond du feu
En décembre
Frantz, décembre 2011.
..............................................................
Our Fortress Is Burning
As shadows we slide
On the grey white limbo
Delivered to the abyss' wind
Of December
Since we need to give each other stones
Kisses long with silence
Gifts as muted as death
In December
To no longer have shivering
Arms of wood's fire
Means coming of where of what
Of December
It would have burn in such an empty blaze
Warming our abyss
That moment when all exist
In December
Dance of fog and ashes
This lonely mountain
Where souls drain their blood
Of December
Our Fortress is burning
Go flee be and fly
I remain in the heart of the pyre
In December
Frantz, December 2011
Literature
Ghosts
Night time musings;
hollow-eyed and shallow-breathed,
filling the spaces between clouds.
Quivering shadow skin
And there are voices in the dark,
lost sighs and weight upon whisper;
but, we are all whispers here.
Literature
liber
my heart is screaming may-day, "i need to
get out of here, out
of you."
i am smudged out ink on a paper,
water running down
dirty car windows.
i am
a broken elevator, stuck
between places.
(bury your heart where it won't find
an escape route, let it
pound, like a prisoner
shaking the bars,
and never let it out
"don't wear your pain too proudly",
they said, "hide
like the demon you truly are.")
i am the missing page in a dusty novel
from 1932, forgotten words
of war.
Literature
The Witches
The witches speak a language
clearer than my mother's, the edge
of a blade, crack of broken glass,
silky slide of sin, come in, come in, in
my ear, a soft patting drum, the
spell bound lullaby
they croak and coo, all manner of
tone and it is sweet as the summer
tongue growing fat on hand cart ice cream
pops, brisk as the Boston cabbies,
neither here nor there, they are
ever here evermore. They are
inside me, flapper dancing
the pelvis bones, acutely out of
style and carefree, they have me,
the potion's daughter, their invitation
sheer formality. I am in, I am
in, I am deep
at the bottom of the cauldron.
Do you dare consume me? The woman
wh
Suggested Collections
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a little piece of music by me to go with [link]
Vestiges de Montségur... Rien de trop calculé...
Remains of Montsegur ... Nothing too calculated...
English version by
Titre du poème - nom du groupe
"The god of man is a failure
Our fortress is burning against the grain of the shattered sky
Charred birds escape from the ruins and return as cascading blood
Dying bloodbirds pooling, feeding the flood
The god of man is a failure
And all of our shadows are ashes against the grain"
Agalloch, 2002.
Vestiges de Montségur... Rien de trop calculé...
Remains of Montsegur ... Nothing too calculated...
English version by
Titre du poème - nom du groupe
"The god of man is a failure
Our fortress is burning against the grain of the shattered sky
Charred birds escape from the ruins and return as cascading blood
Dying bloodbirds pooling, feeding the flood
The god of man is a failure
And all of our shadows are ashes against the grain"
Agalloch, 2002.
© 2011 - 2024 Exnihilo-nihil
Comments98
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La musique est magnifique. Ca me rappelle un peu Within. Je trouve ça dingue qu'en plus d'écrire aussi bien, tu composes des trucs comme ça... et l'association de cette musique et de ce texte fait sens. J'ai passé un beau moment, merci