One of the greatest language of all is utter, complete silence.
And the best, the most eloquent silence,
is that of two mouths meeting in a kiss...
To say nothing...
Truth and Wisdom?
Truth and Wisdom are never recognized when filtered through misspellings, poor grammar, and foul language.
Tortured soul.
I am loath to wreck the wretchedness of your tortured soul,
but then again,
it's what an exorcist does.
but then again,
it's what an exorcist does.
Rolling on.
If I would have known that the world would roll me by,
then I would have never set it a-rolling.
then I would have never set it a-rolling.
Templar's know.
So dark the con of man.
So black the heart within.
So dark the secret ban.
So black the sinned sin.
Dream reality.
A person is not an object or a trophy, a person is a living being, with feelings, with a heart that beats, with a soul that is hungry for love, for life, for recognition and a mind that aspires to have its place in the world.
Every person has to realize their dreams, you have to realize yours and you have to understand the dream. And help others reach and understand their dreams. Then the world will be better for real.
Don't be liven.
Rest not upon the souls of the restless.
I know you walk your path upon a weary road,
small and treacherous,
with the promise of heaven on your right,
the sight of hell on your left,
and the Angel of Death behind you,
tracing your steps.
Strengthen yourself with the thought
that both past and future
come forth out of the now.
Only the moment counts,
and then the next step.
Not the horizon before you,
the emptiness behind,
or the sights and promises beside you.
Find your strength in your own heart,
in your own soul,
and not those of the restless.
Live,
don’t be liven…
The gift of word.
Our tongues and lips will yearn
for the gift of speech,
our speech in turn for phrase,
the poet meets the storyteller
and both will stand bereaved
of talent, style and grace.
New goblets wheel the world around,
but will stand doubtless,
in your town, your house and base,
my old wine will sure be missed,
in the empty goblets being held
in our hands, our life and age.
I, of course, did restless toss,
sleepless at night, tired at day,
ever since I left my pace,
my homeland too must have missed,
my wittiness and way of words
and this exiles unfortunate grace.
To that we owe the lamps of love,
lit with true heart’s fire,
burning bright in every gaze,
the world will yearn for the man of art,
for the woman of skill,
who once did fill the stage.
But if the cruel wind of times,
that blows once north, once south,
continues so to sway,
then earth wil lie drained of water,
sky emptied of clouds
and sun deceived of rays.
So change the gardener if you can,
or dig the earth yourself,
otherwise the growth in vain,
you'll look for the rose and cypress,
for the crawlers and the climbers
and their cooling shade.
And finding shade, our tongues and lips
will find the gift of speech,
our speech will find the phrase,
the poet and the storyteller
both will keep it sound and safe
with talent, style and grace.
for the gift of speech,
our speech in turn for phrase,
the poet meets the storyteller
and both will stand bereaved
of talent, style and grace.
New goblets wheel the world around,
but will stand doubtless,
in your town, your house and base,
my old wine will sure be missed,
in the empty goblets being held
in our hands, our life and age.
I, of course, did restless toss,
sleepless at night, tired at day,
ever since I left my pace,
my homeland too must have missed,
my wittiness and way of words
and this exiles unfortunate grace.
To that we owe the lamps of love,
lit with true heart’s fire,
burning bright in every gaze,
the world will yearn for the man of art,
for the woman of skill,
who once did fill the stage.
But if the cruel wind of times,
that blows once north, once south,
continues so to sway,
then earth wil lie drained of water,
sky emptied of clouds
and sun deceived of rays.
So change the gardener if you can,
or dig the earth yourself,
otherwise the growth in vain,
you'll look for the rose and cypress,
for the crawlers and the climbers
and their cooling shade.
And finding shade, our tongues and lips
will find the gift of speech,
our speech will find the phrase,
the poet and the storyteller
both will keep it sound and safe
with talent, style and grace.
Words.
A thousand words can not convey
What you mean to me
So I’ll just keep it simple
And say it just with three.
Eclipsing of my heart.
Somethimes I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming round
somethimes I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
somethimes I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
somethimes I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
somethimes I fall apart.
Somethimes I get a little bit breathless and I dream of something wild
somethimes I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms
somethimes I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry
somethimes I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes
somethimes I fall apart.
Somethimes I know you'll never be the girl you always wanted to be
somethimes I know you'll always be the only girl who wanted me the way that I am
somethimes I know there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you
somethimes I know there's nothing any better, there's nothing that I just wouldn't do
somethimes I fall apart.
And I need you now this night, and I need you more than ever
and if you'll only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever
and we'll only be making it right, cos we'll never be wrong.
Together we can take it to the end of the line
your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
we're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you this night
cos forever's gonna start tonight.
Once upon a time I was falling in love
but now I'm only falling apart
there's nothing I can do
a total eclipse of my heart.
Once upon a time there was light in my life
but now there's only love in the dark
nothing I can say
a total eclipse of my heart.
So turn around your bright eyes
and I'll turn around mine
I'll form a kiss
and put my lips to thine
so that after the eclips
my heart anew will shine.
somethimes I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
somethimes I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
somethimes I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
somethimes I fall apart.
Somethimes I get a little bit breathless and I dream of something wild
somethimes I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms
somethimes I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry
somethimes I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes
somethimes I fall apart.
Somethimes I know you'll never be the girl you always wanted to be
somethimes I know you'll always be the only girl who wanted me the way that I am
somethimes I know there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you
somethimes I know there's nothing any better, there's nothing that I just wouldn't do
somethimes I fall apart.
And I need you now this night, and I need you more than ever
and if you'll only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever
and we'll only be making it right, cos we'll never be wrong.
Together we can take it to the end of the line
your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
we're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you this night
cos forever's gonna start tonight.
Once upon a time I was falling in love
but now I'm only falling apart
there's nothing I can do
a total eclipse of my heart.
Once upon a time there was light in my life
but now there's only love in the dark
nothing I can say
a total eclipse of my heart.
So turn around your bright eyes
and I'll turn around mine
I'll form a kiss
and put my lips to thine
so that after the eclips
my heart anew will shine.
What's human.
If God would never have been invented, we would not have to try and to care.
But we do try and we do care, and that makes us human.
God or no God...
But we do try and we do care, and that makes us human.
God or no God...
Worth.
It is easier to find something worth dying for, then it is to find something worth living for.
Storm in a mirror.
Ah, come on, come on, let me tell you all about it.
We've got all the time in the world.
That's good, that's nice...
I've been dreaming up a storm lately
Over and over again
And now I can't stop, can't stop...
Been dreaming about mirrors.
Millions of mirrors.
An endless army af mirrors out of control, reflecting people to death.
To blindness and then death.
Oh and the mirrors kept getting larger.
They kept growing... swelling...
They kept spreading out
And now I can't seem to stop them.
They're still growing and I can't seem to stop them.
I have to keep filling them up,
I have to keep feeding them
And they're still getting larger!
And larger!!!
The mirrors have become vast and beautiful
And very, very hungry.
Hungrier than I've ever been.
Too hungry.
I no longer have any control over what they show me or what they see.
They decide themselves what they would like to reflect.
They won't obey me!!!
They create a reflection and then
I have to go out and find the real thing that matches it.
And almost always when I put the real thing in front of the mirrors
It's not nearly as beautiful as the reflection that came first.
And at that point I have to destroy the real thing
And go out looking again until finally
I find another real thing,
A thing that does match what's inside the mirror
and which is truly worthy of the beautiful reflection that came first.
But I almost never find it.
And the mirrors get even hungrier.
Pretty soon now they're going to devour me.
They're going to swallow me up
Piece by piece,
Bit by bit, shiver by shiver, tremble by tremble,
Sliver and sliver and splinter by splinter...
But you can help me, please.
They want you, please.
They've given me your image.
Before I ever saw you they gave me you image.
Please.
I'd like to make you one of my reflections
And feed you to the mirrors.
Please.
They only need one more to fill them up
And if it were you I feel that they would be satisfied.
As I would.
Please.
You have such a beautiful reflection...
Don't ever waste it.
Habits.
A good side of a bad habit is that you can annoy people for reasons unknown to you, but understood by everybody.
Why.
Clouds above sail by as I find meaning in this life.
Clear white flies in my eyes, underneath a blue sky.
The waves roll in with the tide.
People rush by, looking for meaning in this life.
So used up, and blinded by lies, underneath the blue sky.
The way they seldom to smile, I don’t know why.
I really don't know why...
Truth.
Truth no lies,
tears and smiles are locked in our eyes.
Close your eyes and drift away.
You don't have to stay awake to talk to me,
when you know nothing to say.
Muttered cries,
in haunted eyes.
I close them and drift away.
I'll go to sleep now,
I have nothing to say.
tears and smiles are locked in our eyes.
Close your eyes and drift away.
You don't have to stay awake to talk to me,
when you know nothing to say.
Muttered cries,
in haunted eyes.
I close them and drift away.
I'll go to sleep now,
I have nothing to say.
Impossible.
It is... impossible.
The more I slip, the more I say that it is impossible.
Every time I wake it is you that fades away.
It is... as I say.
Do not want to wake up, but that is impossible.
And so you fade.
The more I slip, the more I say that it is impossible.
Every time I wake it is you that fades away.
It is... as I say.
Do not want to wake up, but that is impossible.
And so you fade.
There will be water if the gods willing.
To live your life in such a way that it will not touch anybody else, is not possible. When you do something, think first through if it is a good or a bad thing that you’re doing, because all that you do will come back around to you. And you wouldn’t want bad things to come and haunt you, now would you?
You are so small in this big word, but you can be big yourself if you (can) count on your friends. (Even if they are just there to clean the proverbial bodies you leave behind)
And in turn make sure your friends can count on you.
Anger can be a destructive emotion, but the same time it can be a driving force, if you can steer it in the right direction- better to ask forgiveness later then regret that what you didn’t do. And just remember that there is a very fine line between love and hate. Both hate and love in excess can damage.
Emotions should be kept in check and under guard, but occasionally you’ll need to let them out for fresh air. Otherwise they will start to climb the walls of their prison and they will find a way to break out. You wouldn’t want them on a rampage.
Trust may be something like a myth, especially in the world we live in at this moment in time, but still it exists. You’ll just have to make a little effort to find it. And when you do, all else will fall into place. Your feelings may be your own, but you can share them freely if you have found trust.
People are different like salt and sugar, but remember; some dishes need both ingredients to get the flavor right. And when you do make soup, be sure to remember what you put in there, cause most likely you’ll be eating it yourself.
Tender sense. (ghazal)
Tender scents of apple-blossom, arranged in vase on stand
apple-red cheeks and tender bosom, await me in your bed.
The world around the cabin sensing, I feel alive in that
where forest grows, where mountain rumbles and river runs its bed.
The air alive with sweet vibrations, satin sheets arranged
the tense between us makes us sweat, as we each other bed.
Love insane. (tanka)
Close to the moon’s wane
gathering clouds of despair
the night a dark friend.
Hugging a love gone insane
so do I my life repent.
Just love. (cinquain)
Our love
not the base of
some empty promises
or willful lies, no, it is just
our love.
not the base of
some empty promises
or willful lies, no, it is just
our love.
Feeling the emptiness.
I feel
in dampened air
the emptiness around.
I reach
through flares of mist
of nothing in particular.
Often
in the lonely winds
I stretch out my arms.
Unwanted
this touch of fullness
but touched without knowing.
Freeze
my misty breath
in the chillness of the air.
Quiet
to the world around
and my turned off senses.
Abashed
I step back
from nothing in particular.
Susceptible
to the touch of fullness
in the emptiness around.
in dampened air
the emptiness around.
I reach
through flares of mist
of nothing in particular.
Often
in the lonely winds
I stretch out my arms.
Unwanted
this touch of fullness
but touched without knowing.
Freeze
my misty breath
in the chillness of the air.
Quiet
to the world around
and my turned off senses.
Abashed
I step back
from nothing in particular.
Susceptible
to the touch of fullness
in the emptiness around.
Drowning in your eyes.
I’m going under
to the bottom
cannot be without you
not a minute
not waiting, not doubting
my faith
my tears, my own
I’m going down
to the bottom
in the deepness of your eyes
I sink.
Trapped without air
dying for a breath
you hold me
and I feel myself drowning.
No way out
weakening and breaking
you hold me
and I drown.
I’m down and under
reached the bottom
in the deepness of your eyes.
to the bottom
cannot be without you
not a minute
not waiting, not doubting
my faith
my tears, my own
I’m going down
to the bottom
in the deepness of your eyes
I sink.
Trapped without air
dying for a breath
you hold me
and I feel myself drowning.
No way out
weakening and breaking
you hold me
and I drown.
I’m down and under
reached the bottom
in the deepness of your eyes.
Come what may.
For a moment then
the memory stays
then it flees
with the passing day
and leaves an emptiness
in many ways
but I go on
come what may.
For a little while
was all okay
as tender kisses
on lips did lay
then fiery yes
went cold and nay
but I held on
come what may.
For some of them
for what I prayed
the truth came up
the lie did lay
then rain and drop
shade sun and ray
but I went on
come what may.
For just a moment
a parting way
an emptiness
that fills a day
a memory
gone away
but what may come
I will stay.
the memory stays
then it flees
with the passing day
and leaves an emptiness
in many ways
but I go on
come what may.
For a little while
was all okay
as tender kisses
on lips did lay
then fiery yes
went cold and nay
but I held on
come what may.
For some of them
for what I prayed
the truth came up
the lie did lay
then rain and drop
shade sun and ray
but I went on
come what may.
For just a moment
a parting way
an emptiness
that fills a day
a memory
gone away
but what may come
I will stay.
Chase. (tanka)
Intertwined the vines in a green and blue-grey canopy
which rustle in the cooling winds and the passing of you
the forest grows with excitement.
At the sight of graceful movement passing by
I grow like the forest and pass the cooling winds to come to you.
which rustle in the cooling winds and the passing of you
the forest grows with excitement.
At the sight of graceful movement passing by
I grow like the forest and pass the cooling winds to come to you.
Ode to ruby lips.
In the sky an image, faint and fragile
a shimmer made by clouds of silver mist and icy crystals
naughty thoughts their creation
those flares of recognition
of your ruby lips.
You it was who’s face hang there
in golden rays sculptured
out of sunlight made
a sight so rare it’s not to be found by the common
under sky so perfect blue
the canvas for this priceless art
red image of a miracle born of angel’s tears
your ruby lips.
Pounding heart goes wild behind their bars of bone
ringing mind under a roof of dazzling thoughts
elevating soul in a canister of love
sublime in every sentence
that manages to escape the grasp of my lips
every word spoken in awe
and care not to ruin the silence
not spoken the more if not said the less
casting my eye upon perfection not of this world
eye to eye we stood in this moment in eternity
seeing your ruby lips.
Fabulous in all your air
the breath of life for my hungry lungs
overjoyed my aura
electric shivers through my spine
unifying our separates till no two exists
but one in whole
nowhere more in space or time the surge for other
deeper wanting then mine is not to be found
in known or unknown worlds
wanting ruby lips.
Masterpiece in the hands of the potter
yearning and craving and turning and shaving
simplicity in complexity is the key to salvation
ether so thick in air so thin
learning to fly without wings
mind out of body
fly like an eagle in skies so free
where yonder girls not half the beauty
of you my love.
And all I want
to have a kiss
of your ruby lips.
...
La mort et secourable et la mort et tranguille.
Contre mes douleurs il n’y a pas d’autre asile.
Death is safe and death is peaceful.
From our pains there is no other refuge.
Modern day prayer.
Oh Lord.
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and the courage to change the things I cannot accept. And grant me the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had to kill today because they pissed me off. And also, help me to be careful of the toes I step on today as they may be connected to the ass that I have to kiss tomorrow. And please help me to remember…, when I’m having a really bad day and it seems that people are trying to piss me off, that it takes 42 muscles to frown, but only 4 to extend my middle finger and tell them to bite me!
Amen.
Batisch-Deutsches Essay.
Das Jahr ist 1940, Deutschland. Junge Balten-Deutsche müssen in der Schule eine Essay schreiben über das Baltische Leben und die gezwungene Umziedlung nach Deutschland.
Eine Junge nehmt es mit viel Humor und macht den folgenden Bemerkung;
"Vor 700 Jahren zogen unsere Vorfahren nach Estland, Letland und Kurland um das Baltische Land zu germanisieren.
Letztes Jahr sind wir unverrichtersache wieder zurück gekommen."
Eine Junge nehmt es mit viel Humor und macht den folgenden Bemerkung;
"Vor 700 Jahren zogen unsere Vorfahren nach Estland, Letland und Kurland um das Baltische Land zu germanisieren.
Letztes Jahr sind wir unverrichtersache wieder zurück gekommen."
Believe.
Why is it that when a person tells you there's over a million stars in the universe you believe them, but if someone tells you there's wet paint somewhere, you have to touch it to make sure?
Filosofical.
A professor of filosofy, standing before the audotorium, puts a five-liter jar on the table and fills it with 3cm big stones. Then he asks the audotorium: „Is the jar full?“
The students answer: „Yes.“
The professor grabs a jar of peas from under the table and pours them into the big jar with the stones. He shakes the jar a little and the peas all roll between the stones. Then he asks again: „Is the jar full?“
Again the students answer: „Yes.“
Now the professor lifts a box with sand on the table and starts to pour it into the jar. All the sand slides in between the stones and the peas. Again he asks the audotorium: „Is the jar full?“
The students answer: „Yes, now definitaly.“
The professor smiles, puts two cans of beer on The table, opens them and starts to pour the beer into the jar also. „And now“, says the professor, „I want to tell you that this jar is an analogue of your lives.“
„The strones are the most important things in life: family, health, friends, children. It is that which is enough to make your life full and worth living, even if you loose all else.
The peas are things which are only important for you personal: work, home, assets.
The sand is all the rest, all the small stuff. If I would have filled the jar first with sand, then there would not have been room for the stones and the peas.
That’s how it is in life: If you waste time on small things, then you’ll miss out on the more important things. Deal with stuff that makes you happy, play with your kids, make time for your partner, meet with friends. Then there will be time also for work, cleaning, car-wash etc.
Have priorities in life, first stones, then peas and then sand.“
The auditorium claps. Only one student raises his hands and asks with a sad voice:
"Professor, why did you waste the beer?"
The professor smiles: "I’m happy you ask. I poured the beer in the jar to proof that, no matter how tight your schedule is, no matter how many things you have to do, there is always time for „a beer“."
The students answer: „Yes.“
The professor grabs a jar of peas from under the table and pours them into the big jar with the stones. He shakes the jar a little and the peas all roll between the stones. Then he asks again: „Is the jar full?“
Again the students answer: „Yes.“
Now the professor lifts a box with sand on the table and starts to pour it into the jar. All the sand slides in between the stones and the peas. Again he asks the audotorium: „Is the jar full?“
The students answer: „Yes, now definitaly.“
The professor smiles, puts two cans of beer on The table, opens them and starts to pour the beer into the jar also. „And now“, says the professor, „I want to tell you that this jar is an analogue of your lives.“
„The strones are the most important things in life: family, health, friends, children. It is that which is enough to make your life full and worth living, even if you loose all else.
The peas are things which are only important for you personal: work, home, assets.
The sand is all the rest, all the small stuff. If I would have filled the jar first with sand, then there would not have been room for the stones and the peas.
That’s how it is in life: If you waste time on small things, then you’ll miss out on the more important things. Deal with stuff that makes you happy, play with your kids, make time for your partner, meet with friends. Then there will be time also for work, cleaning, car-wash etc.
Have priorities in life, first stones, then peas and then sand.“
The auditorium claps. Only one student raises his hands and asks with a sad voice:
"Professor, why did you waste the beer?"
The professor smiles: "I’m happy you ask. I poured the beer in the jar to proof that, no matter how tight your schedule is, no matter how many things you have to do, there is always time for „a beer“."
Beware.
One who craps on you, is not neccesarily your enemy.
One who helps you out of the crap, is not neccesarily your friend.
One who helps you out of the crap, is not neccesarily your friend.
Sacrifices.
Better to win the war with your pants full of shit,
then to loose it while sitting in the toilet.
then to loose it while sitting in the toilet.
Wonder of time.
We never have the time to do something right the first time.
We always have the time to do it again a second time.
We always have the time to do it again a second time.
...
Mis piinab meid on ootus
see on alatine pikkus.
Mis annab meile lootus
on aga kannatlikkus.
see on alatine pikkus.
Mis annab meile lootus
on aga kannatlikkus.
Wat pijnt ons expectatie
een lengte zonder einde
de hoop de pijn te verdragen
iets geduld te gaan verwenden.
Was peint uns ist Erwartung
eine Länge ohne Ende.
Die Hoffnung Leid zu ertragen
ein bischen Duldung zu verwenden.
What pains us expectation
a length without an end.
The hope for toleration
a bit of patience to spend.
Time's heap.
Yesterday we were
what we dug up that day
today we only are
the dug up sand and clay
tomorrow that we'll be
what we bury there today.
what we dug up that day
today we only are
the dug up sand and clay
tomorrow that we'll be
what we bury there today.
...
Isn't it funny how the word 'politics' is made up of the words 'poli' meaning 'many' in Latin, and 'tics' as in 'bloodsucking creatures’?
...
If an anarchist group attained political power, would they not by principle have to dissolve their own government?
Judge not lest ye be judged yourself.
If you tell someone they are being judgmental aren't you being judgmental yourself?
...
Aren't you tired of people asking you rhetorical questions and you don't know if they are rhetorical questions or not?
...
Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
Time's changes.
Yesterday today was still tomorrow.
Gestern war Heute noch Morgen.
Gisteren was vandaag nog morgen.
Gestern war Heute noch Morgen.
Gisteren was vandaag nog morgen.
Opportunity.
Opportunity doesn't knock on the door.
You have to knock yourself and then opportunity will answer.
Just be sure you knock on the right door.
Open mind.
There are no possibilities in a feable's mind.
So free your mind and create possibilities.
Un-civilized behaviour.
Transporting myself from point A to B by means of a trolleybus, I witnessed the following:
An elder lady, by the looks of it about 65, of a certain nationality in a very aroussed state of agitation. She shouted, called names, yelled and generally said very unfriendly things which I not dare to translate here. And all directed against several people of another nationality. What set her off I don't know, but the voiced opinions kept on spouting right till the endstation of the trolley.
And I was thinking to myself: What a wonderful exhibition of the un-civilization of the human race.
An elder lady, by the looks of it about 65, of a certain nationality in a very aroussed state of agitation. She shouted, called names, yelled and generally said very unfriendly things which I not dare to translate here. And all directed against several people of another nationality. What set her off I don't know, but the voiced opinions kept on spouting right till the endstation of the trolley.
And I was thinking to myself: What a wonderful exhibition of the un-civilization of the human race.
...
Worse then seeing through
the necessity of human existence
is opposing your own karma.
Do what you can,
then you'll know why you're here.
the necessity of human existence
is opposing your own karma.
Do what you can,
then you'll know why you're here.
Time-frame.
Do I feel as old as I am,
or am I as old as I feel?
What is age or time anyway, but a measure set by mankind. If our planet would need 730 "days" to travel once around our sun, instead of 365, would we then be only half as old as we are now?
or am I as old as I feel?
What is age or time anyway, but a measure set by mankind. If our planet would need 730 "days" to travel once around our sun, instead of 365, would we then be only half as old as we are now?
Momenti.
Momento Momenti.
A blink of eye, a beat of heart
a soft sigh blows all apart
a spin of earth not even done
a death, a birth, a moment gone.
A sigh of wind, a fall of leave
a drying tear shed in grieve
a truth, a lie, a reason gone
just because the moment done.
A sobbing cry, a heartfelt laughter
all just gone, a moment after.
Momento Vita.
A first breath slips
through lips
gentle red and soft of touch.
A life anew
our rightful due
as we succumb to such.
Crimson roses
take their poses
at the cradle gently swaying.
Gentle tones
this life enthrones
as the years are slowly laying.
Momento Jubileum.
In your eyes
your heart and soul
in your smile the world so humble
you give your love
to all.
Momento Terribilis.
In your eyes
a terrible truth
in your cry all now crumbles
you’re leaving now
for good.
Momento Mori.
A last breath slips
through lips
the colour of macabre blue.
Life gone by
no asking why
we all get what’s our due.
Crimson roses
take their poses
on a careful chiselled stone.
Gentle psalms
as dirt embalms
lifeless flesh and bone.
Momento Memoriam.
A faint whisper that remains
but never loud.
A faint image that refrains
from clearing out.
All it was, an ecstasy
a moment done.
All it is, a memory
a moment gone.
Momento Monumentum.
All just gone
the moment after
the sobbing cries
the heartfelt laughter
from remembrance
we refrain
till not even a moment
remains.
A blink of eye, a beat of heart
a soft sigh blows all apart
a spin of earth not even done
a death, a birth, a moment gone.
A sigh of wind, a fall of leave
a drying tear shed in grieve
a truth, a lie, a reason gone
just because the moment done.
A sobbing cry, a heartfelt laughter
all just gone, a moment after.
Momento Vita.
A first breath slips
through lips
gentle red and soft of touch.
A life anew
our rightful due
as we succumb to such.
Crimson roses
take their poses
at the cradle gently swaying.
Gentle tones
this life enthrones
as the years are slowly laying.
Momento Jubileum.
In your eyes
your heart and soul
in your smile the world so humble
you give your love
to all.
Momento Terribilis.
In your eyes
a terrible truth
in your cry all now crumbles
you’re leaving now
for good.
Momento Mori.
A last breath slips
through lips
the colour of macabre blue.
Life gone by
no asking why
we all get what’s our due.
Crimson roses
take their poses
on a careful chiselled stone.
Gentle psalms
as dirt embalms
lifeless flesh and bone.
Momento Memoriam.
A faint whisper that remains
but never loud.
A faint image that refrains
from clearing out.
All it was, an ecstasy
a moment done.
All it is, a memory
a moment gone.
Momento Monumentum.
All just gone
the moment after
the sobbing cries
the heartfelt laughter
from remembrance
we refrain
till not even a moment
remains.
Üksinda.
Ma kuulen päikesekiiri
ja olen pimestatud
langeva vihmatõttu.
Ma nuusutan rohtu
mu jalge all
ja tunnen veelõhna.
Ja pärast unistusse langemist
lähen nüüd, lähen pärast,
lähen nagu paljud
üksilduses üksinda.
ja olen pimestatud
langeva vihmatõttu.
Ma nuusutan rohtu
mu jalge all
ja tunnen veelõhna.
Ja pärast unistusse langemist
lähen nüüd, lähen pärast,
lähen nagu paljud
üksilduses üksinda.
Verheiliging.
En voor jou - of als bij mijn zijde echod
Jou glansloos, muse gesprek nog?
Begrijp je en ben je echt wel nodig
Mijn verlangen naar jou stille zin?
Is de dichter niet zomaar
Nu je op het gedichten-pad niet gaat?
Misschien onbeantwoord op het moment
Blijft het gedicht, net als liefde eens bleef?
Dan alleen de klokken waarneembaar
je vergenoegen eens behoorde hun -
en mijn gedachten uitsprekend, dat nu, waar onweer
ons al lang heeft verlaten
jou vlakke wind-ruis
jou laatste woord, droevig en hard
voor mij voor eeuwig heilig is
Als ziel's enigste liefde.
Jou glansloos, muse gesprek nog?
Begrijp je en ben je echt wel nodig
Mijn verlangen naar jou stille zin?
Is de dichter niet zomaar
Nu je op het gedichten-pad niet gaat?
Misschien onbeantwoord op het moment
Blijft het gedicht, net als liefde eens bleef?
Dan alleen de klokken waarneembaar
je vergenoegen eens behoorde hun -
en mijn gedachten uitsprekend, dat nu, waar onweer
ons al lang heeft verlaten
jou vlakke wind-ruis
jou laatste woord, droevig en hard
voor mij voor eeuwig heilig is
Als ziel's enigste liefde.
Tout jours, toutjours.
Un jour de printemps, avec toi
odeur de fleur nouvelles
agneaux gai dans le pâturage
renouvelez d’esprit
un jour de printemps, avec toi.
Un jour d’été, avec toi
l‘air tremblet de tension
le soleil est chaud et brûlet
la saison plein joie et bonheur
un jour d’été, avec toi.
Un jour d’automne, avec toi
la pluie et la feuille d’arbre
brun, rouge et jaune
chutez-mou dans le soir
un jour d’automne, avec toi.
Un jour d’hiver, avec toi
mûr sur l’arbre chauve
neige doux comme une couverture
une saison de contempler
un jour d’hiver, avec toi.
Un jour d’ans, avec toi
tout possible, l’amours toujours
un sentiment de "je ne sais quoi"
je t’aime, je t’adore
un jour d’ans, avec toi.
Un jour d’amour, avec toi
l’herbe chatouillet sous notre pieds
la passion unit notre corpses nu
et notre esprites comme une dans la nuit
avec toi, l’amour tout jours...
toujours.
Ich bin nicht.
Ein Augenblick, eine Träne des Leits
im Ozean der unendlichen Zeit
ein Atemzug, ein Moment nur hier
ich bin nicht, ich passier'.
Auf der Uhr der weltlichen Zeit
ein Tick, eine Sekunde vielleicht
im erdlichen Schmuck und in menschlicher Gier
bin ich nicht, ich passier'.
Nach dem Sein im Gegenwärts Geist
dem Gehen in Zukunft und Vergangenheit
in einem Herzenschlag aber, ein Moment erfriert
in der Wirklichkeits Falle, bleibe ich hier
doch bin ich nicht, nicht wirklich
ich passier'…
im Ozean der unendlichen Zeit
ein Atemzug, ein Moment nur hier
ich bin nicht, ich passier'.
Auf der Uhr der weltlichen Zeit
ein Tick, eine Sekunde vielleicht
im erdlichen Schmuck und in menschlicher Gier
bin ich nicht, ich passier'.
Nach dem Sein im Gegenwärts Geist
dem Gehen in Zukunft und Vergangenheit
in einem Herzenschlag aber, ein Moment erfriert
in der Wirklichkeits Falle, bleibe ich hier
doch bin ich nicht, nicht wirklich
ich passier'…
Narren des Schicksals.
In dieser alten Spelunke voller Narren
kommt das Gute wie das Schlechte
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Stürtze du dich Hals über Kopf ins Leben
tu das wass du willst
oder sitze zu Hause und warte ab
warte auf das, wass du willst
das Gute wie das Schlechte kommt zu dir
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Die Musik, hör dir die an, tanz, wenn du kannst
und wenn du nicht kannst, tanze nicht, hör nur zu
kleide dich in Lumpen, oder Haut Coutoure
lass deine Socken voller Löcher sein
behäng dich mit Juwelen, oder geh wie du bist
wie du bist geboren, nakkig und ohne Scham
das Gute wie das Schlechte kommt
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Trink was du willst, nähre deine Angst
ess was du magst, siehe deine Angst
küsse, wen du liebst, fühle deine Angst
das Gute kommt, das Schlechte kommt
das Schichsal steht nicht still
es kommt, wenn es will
in dieser alten Spelunke voller Narren.
kommt das Gute wie das Schlechte
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Stürtze du dich Hals über Kopf ins Leben
tu das wass du willst
oder sitze zu Hause und warte ab
warte auf das, wass du willst
das Gute wie das Schlechte kommt zu dir
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Die Musik, hör dir die an, tanz, wenn du kannst
und wenn du nicht kannst, tanze nicht, hör nur zu
kleide dich in Lumpen, oder Haut Coutoure
lass deine Socken voller Löcher sein
behäng dich mit Juwelen, oder geh wie du bist
wie du bist geboren, nakkig und ohne Scham
das Gute wie das Schlechte kommt
ganz wie dein Schicksal will.
Trink was du willst, nähre deine Angst
ess was du magst, siehe deine Angst
küsse, wen du liebst, fühle deine Angst
das Gute kommt, das Schlechte kommt
das Schichsal steht nicht still
es kommt, wenn es will
in dieser alten Spelunke voller Narren.
Liebes Kind.
Frisch weht der Wind, der Heimat zu
mein liebes Kind, wo weilest du?
Weit und leer, Kindes klein
das weiten Meer, hinüberein.
Mein liebes Kind, zärt und klein
mit frischen Wind, über die Welt hinein.
Leer mein Herz, Tränen von Leit
Liebessmertz, du bist so Weit.
Weit das Meer, zur Heimat hin
o, weißt du noch, wo ich denn bin?
Hoch die Alpe, an Heimats Grenze
komm doch Heim, mein Herz ergänzen.
Tief das Wald, im Heimats Land
o, schönes Kind, wo ist dein Hand?
Kalt der Wind, der Heimat zu
o, schönes Kind, wo weilest du?
mein liebes Kind, wo weilest du?
Weit und leer, Kindes klein
das weiten Meer, hinüberein.
Mein liebes Kind, zärt und klein
mit frischen Wind, über die Welt hinein.
Leer mein Herz, Tränen von Leit
Liebessmertz, du bist so Weit.
Weit das Meer, zur Heimat hin
o, weißt du noch, wo ich denn bin?
Hoch die Alpe, an Heimats Grenze
komm doch Heim, mein Herz ergänzen.
Tief das Wald, im Heimats Land
o, schönes Kind, wo ist dein Hand?
Kalt der Wind, der Heimat zu
o, schönes Kind, wo weilest du?
Lilleparaad.
Kuna
sügav kehale lilleparaad
püüab meist läbi nagu surev,
tulekul nagu tuul keldriukse august ning
ei kustu enam,
tema huuled liiguvad.
Tema huuled liiguvad nagu ta ütleb
seda mis ta ainult hiljem ütleb,
lillede loomist sõnul nagu lilled,
ökitatud,
keeles võõras lilledel,
isegi kuigi ta ei ütle midagi.
Selle kõikide keskel,
kolm väiksed tüdrukud löövad,
suve-kleididele nagu tulilt välja sülitatud,
kõvasti trummidele, tume pilgudega,
nii et linnade valgused hiilgavad, säravavad
ning trummikära
suurendab suurendavad pimeduses.
Ta tuleb peeglidel
lähedal ning mõtleb et tenisepallide
asjaolu hommikul
on lõng surma anti-tunderõhkudest.
Üks suga hiljem jõhv lamendab vasakune jaotus,
siis jälle parem ning ei oska, nagu käsi, otsutada,
kuni,
päevadel,
tema voodi peaagu laguneb.
Päikses olemas raud ei tea enam et ta on pall,
raud mis uuesti kujub ennast Buick-ide pagasnigu-kaanidel,
mis on soojendatud ujumisbaseinilt.
Aga enne seda uni jookseb üle ilma voodita naine,
tema jõhvad, haigutamas vastu päike, segamini.
sügav kehale lilleparaad
püüab meist läbi nagu surev,
tulekul nagu tuul keldriukse august ning
ei kustu enam,
tema huuled liiguvad.
Tema huuled liiguvad nagu ta ütleb
seda mis ta ainult hiljem ütleb,
lillede loomist sõnul nagu lilled,
ökitatud,
keeles võõras lilledel,
isegi kuigi ta ei ütle midagi.
Selle kõikide keskel,
kolm väiksed tüdrukud löövad,
suve-kleididele nagu tulilt välja sülitatud,
kõvasti trummidele, tume pilgudega,
nii et linnade valgused hiilgavad, säravavad
ning trummikära
suurendab suurendavad pimeduses.
Ta tuleb peeglidel
lähedal ning mõtleb et tenisepallide
asjaolu hommikul
on lõng surma anti-tunderõhkudest.
Üks suga hiljem jõhv lamendab vasakune jaotus,
siis jälle parem ning ei oska, nagu käsi, otsutada,
kuni,
päevadel,
tema voodi peaagu laguneb.
Päikses olemas raud ei tea enam et ta on pall,
raud mis uuesti kujub ennast Buick-ide pagasnigu-kaanidel,
mis on soojendatud ujumisbaseinilt.
Aga enne seda uni jookseb üle ilma voodita naine,
tema jõhvad, haigutamas vastu päike, segamini.
Mu südamele.
Mu südamele su rind on piisav
su vabadule piisab mu tiivad
see mis magas su hinges
jõuab taevas läbi mu suu
läbi mu huulte.
Sinust on igapäevane illusioon
nagu värske vesi lillekroonides sa ilmud
ja õõnestab horisont sinu puudutusi
igavesti voolab nagu laine, looded.
Olen õelnud sa laulad tuules
nagu männipuud või laeva-mastid
kõrge ja vaikne sa oled
ja äkki sa teed kurbust nagu teekond.
Su külalislahkus nagu vana tee
sinu majades kajad ja hääled täis koduigatsust.
Ma ärkan ja siis linnud põgenevad
kes magasid sinu hinges.
su vabadule piisab mu tiivad
see mis magas su hinges
jõuab taevas läbi mu suu
läbi mu huulte.
Sinust on igapäevane illusioon
nagu värske vesi lillekroonides sa ilmud
ja õõnestab horisont sinu puudutusi
igavesti voolab nagu laine, looded.
Olen õelnud sa laulad tuules
nagu männipuud või laeva-mastid
kõrge ja vaikne sa oled
ja äkki sa teed kurbust nagu teekond.
Su külalislahkus nagu vana tee
sinu majades kajad ja hääled täis koduigatsust.
Ma ärkan ja siis linnud põgenevad
kes magasid sinu hinges.
Poetiline.
Nii lollid ütlevad, lollid ütlevad nii,
armastus?
Ühte lille ta on, ühte roos, või siis
ühte luik on ta-
või siis võibolla, see neitslik kuu,
kes õnnistab maa ta all, arm.
See te olete, nende jaoks,
aga nii asjatu sõnu mitte minust.
Vaikige, roos, punasta,
pole palsam nagu hingus,
ma tõrelen seda.
Painuta su kaela parim, luik,
tema oma on valgemad kaar,
las kuu olla kuu,
armastus panen ma kõrval.
Mis ta on? Ta inimlik ise,
ei madalam sõna kõlbab.
armastus?
Ühte lille ta on, ühte roos, või siis
ühte luik on ta-
või siis võibolla, see neitslik kuu,
kes õnnistab maa ta all, arm.
See te olete, nende jaoks,
aga nii asjatu sõnu mitte minust.
Vaikige, roos, punasta,
pole palsam nagu hingus,
ma tõrelen seda.
Painuta su kaela parim, luik,
tema oma on valgemad kaar,
las kuu olla kuu,
armastus panen ma kõrval.
Mis ta on? Ta inimlik ise,
ei madalam sõna kõlbab.
Moment in time.
All comes before, all comes after.
We are just an in-between.
A grain of sand in a drop of water.
Insignificant at best.
We are just an in-between.
A grain of sand in a drop of water.
Insignificant at best.
Squeeze
Wisdom gets sucked into the brain
like water into a sponge.
The problem is,
you always have to squeeze so hard
to get it out again.
And always a few drops remain behind...
like water into a sponge.
The problem is,
you always have to squeeze so hard
to get it out again.
And always a few drops remain behind...
Gezählten Leids.
Und so lesen wir bescheid
eine Geschichte voller Tränen
das Lachen nur drei Zeilen
aus hundert Seiten Pein
das Vorwort in kleine Staben
-groß darf das nicht sein-
zehn Kapitel in drei Teilen
ganz mit Hand geschrieben
das Buch gezählten Leids.
eine Geschichte voller Tränen
das Lachen nur drei Zeilen
aus hundert Seiten Pein
das Vorwort in kleine Staben
-groß darf das nicht sein-
zehn Kapitel in drei Teilen
ganz mit Hand geschrieben
das Buch gezählten Leids.
Babel fell.
So many different voices
most of them I cannot tell
was it faith or peoples choices
o, Babel, why did you fell?
You tower of the races
your ruin still a cry
you fell in many places
o, Babel, tell me why?
The world a noisy multitude
so many voices in the air
our understanding still so crude
o, Babel, how did you dare?
Was it wrong choices, lost faith
that rang for you the doomsday-bell
couldn't say what your destiny made
but Babel, you fell!
Igavene Memuaar.
Sinu silmades näen peegeldunud nõrka varju
küünlavalgus mis põleb üksi vikses öös.
Selle varja taga mälestus möödunust, minevikust,
oli ja läbi.
Sajandid on möödunud, jah, nüüd ma mõtlen sellest
sajandid on olnud.
Sajandid ihkamist, sajandid lootust, sajandid piina,
sajandid pole elu, sajandid pole surma,
sajandid ootamist...
Sajandeid nüüd see küünal põleb sulle
sajandeid teemandid liivaks
ja sajandeid ma olen siin istunud sinu kolju minu käes...
küünlavalgus mis põleb üksi vikses öös.
Selle varja taga mälestus möödunust, minevikust,
oli ja läbi.
Sajandid on möödunud, jah, nüüd ma mõtlen sellest
sajandid on olnud.
Sajandid ihkamist, sajandid lootust, sajandid piina,
sajandid pole elu, sajandid pole surma,
sajandid ootamist...
Sajandeid nüüd see küünal põleb sulle
sajandeid teemandid liivaks
ja sajandeid ma olen siin istunud sinu kolju minu käes...
An eternal memoir.
In your eyes I see reflected a faint shade
of the candlelight that’s burning lonely
in the quiet night.
Behind this shade the memory of over, of past
been and gone.
Centuries have past, yes, now I think about it,
it have been centuries.
Centuries of desire, centuries of hope, centuries of soar,
centuries of no life, centuries of no death,
centuries waiting for...
For centuries it is now that this candle burns for you
centuries of diamonds to sand
and for centuries I have been sitting here with your skull in my hand...
Hüüan õrnalt.
Vaatan välja näen valgust
lumi langeb õrnalt
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja su nime hüüan õrnalt.
Vaatan sisse näen pimedust
kus valgus nüüd ei kuma
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja mu näost virvendab su aura.
Vaatan välja näen valgust
mis nüüd õrnalt kumab
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja mu peas su nägu virvendab.
Vaatan sisse näen pimedust
mu pisarad langevad õrnalt
sest mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja sulle hüüan õrnalt.
lumi langeb õrnalt
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja su nime hüüan õrnalt.
Vaatan sisse näen pimedust
kus valgus nüüd ei kuma
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja mu näost virvendab su aura.
Vaatan välja näen valgust
mis nüüd õrnalt kumab
siis mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja mu peas su nägu virvendab.
Vaatan sisse näen pimedust
mu pisarad langevad õrnalt
sest mõtlen sinust, sinust ainult
ja sulle hüüan õrnalt.
Amen to Zany.
Amen to the world
Blesses the old man every morning
Clownish in his appearance
Dutifully, he feeds the birds
Enigmatic, he finds them
Full of mystery and secrets
Gracefully he flaps his arms
How wonderful it must be
In the sky, high above the country
Just the wind and the clouds
Keeping this thought
Leads him through the day
More and more he thinks about it
Nothing else he sees
Only wings
Paralyzed he steps out of his apartment one day
Quickly he runs up the stairs
Rooftop now, he stands
Seeing birds above him
Testing the wind with his finger
Usually wetted, but dry this time
Velvet skies await him
Wings he imagines, instead of arms
Xylophonic rhythms in his mind
Yo world, I can fly...
Zany was buried five days later.
Blesses the old man every morning
Clownish in his appearance
Dutifully, he feeds the birds
Enigmatic, he finds them
Full of mystery and secrets
Gracefully he flaps his arms
How wonderful it must be
In the sky, high above the country
Just the wind and the clouds
Keeping this thought
Leads him through the day
More and more he thinks about it
Nothing else he sees
Only wings
Paralyzed he steps out of his apartment one day
Quickly he runs up the stairs
Rooftop now, he stands
Seeing birds above him
Testing the wind with his finger
Usually wetted, but dry this time
Velvet skies await him
Wings he imagines, instead of arms
Xylophonic rhythms in his mind
Yo world, I can fly...
Zany was buried five days later.
Rêves.
Dans ma memoire
une vie de horrive
et je ne veux pas de rétrive
mais a tout péché miséricorde.
Dans ma nuit
n’est pas de rétrâit
tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner
et tout ce qui s’en suit.
Dans ma vie
ne pas de doute
abstiens-toi d’imagination
et portent vos rêves sans de bêtises.
une vie de horrive
et je ne veux pas de rétrive
mais a tout péché miséricorde.
Dans ma nuit
n’est pas de rétrâit
tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner
et tout ce qui s’en suit.
Dans ma vie
ne pas de doute
abstiens-toi d’imagination
et portent vos rêves sans de bêtises.
Hõbedane Tolm.
Pisarad mu silmades
päikese looja vaade minu kurbust
minu piinad uurivad videviku-tsooni kuni kõige kaugemale ulatunud
hämarik langeb õrna ohkega
ja ähvardav öö varjab mu kurbust kurva tekiga
ja nii ma ootan koitu pisaratega silmades.
Hüüed mu huultes
rongad puudes raspetavad kooris
selle kõla nagu odad läbi pimedusse määratuid
kajad naasevad sarkastse vastusega
ja ähvardav vaikus hõljub nagu kari hunte öösel
ja nii ma ootan koitu hüüetega huultel.
Valu mu südames
kujuteldav nuga pistab mu rinnas
veri, tume ja ohter nagu küpsad marjad, voolab mööda keha alla
see on imetud näljases maast, kuhu ma ennast istuma panin
ja ähvardav tunne valust rebib läbi hinge
ja nii ootan koitu valudega südames.
Ning kui aeglaselt üle okeaan päike loojub
ma vinnan oma käed taeva suunas ja häälega hüüan
ning kui süda lõpetab oma trummeldava rütmi
mu pisarad kaovad hõbedase tolmupilve..
Silver dust.
Tears in my eyes.
The setting sun a sight for my sorrows.
My sores explore the twilight-zone to its most outer reaches.
Dusk falls with a soft sigh.
And the impending night covers my sadness with a blanket of grieve.
And so I await dawn with tears in my eyes.
A cry on my lips.
The crows in the trees a rasping choir.
The sounds as spears through the vastness of the dark.
Echoes return with a sarcastic answer.
And the impending silence hovers as a pack of wolves in the night.
And so I await dawn with a cry on my lips.
Pain in my heart.
An imaginary knife impales my chest.
Blood, dark and rich like ripe berries, flows down my body.
It is absorbed by the hungering grounds on which I have sat me down.
And the impending feelings of hurt rip through my mind.
And so I await dawn with pain in my heart.
And as slowly over the ocean the sun sets,
I heave my arms towards the sky and voice my cry.
And as my heart stops its drumming rhythm,
my tears obliterate into a cloud of silver dust.
The setting sun a sight for my sorrows.
My sores explore the twilight-zone to its most outer reaches.
Dusk falls with a soft sigh.
And the impending night covers my sadness with a blanket of grieve.
And so I await dawn with tears in my eyes.
A cry on my lips.
The crows in the trees a rasping choir.
The sounds as spears through the vastness of the dark.
Echoes return with a sarcastic answer.
And the impending silence hovers as a pack of wolves in the night.
And so I await dawn with a cry on my lips.
Pain in my heart.
An imaginary knife impales my chest.
Blood, dark and rich like ripe berries, flows down my body.
It is absorbed by the hungering grounds on which I have sat me down.
And the impending feelings of hurt rip through my mind.
And so I await dawn with pain in my heart.
And as slowly over the ocean the sun sets,
I heave my arms towards the sky and voice my cry.
And as my heart stops its drumming rhythm,
my tears obliterate into a cloud of silver dust.
A poem by the fireside.
So as you shiver in the cold of morning
or in the night that's falling so dark
look into the warming fire burning for you
and see the firy looks of its spark -
my never wearing eye watches over you.
As you walk alone in the heave of the wind
and its whistling all-grabbing claws
listen to the howling of the lonely wolf
and the hunger of its all-grabbing jaws -
my beautiful nature song comes to you.
And when you're lost in this labyrint world
and the cover-up of the trackless snow
look up high in the immense sky
to where the angels and the eagles go -
my always burning star shines for you.
In deep, dark mine alost awandering
or climbing highness of a crumbling peek
hear the poem in the whispering words
of unconditionnal love I speak -
my constant bearing thoughts are with you.
You are not forsaken
you are not forgotten
you are not forlorn
the evil of this world unable to swallow you
the all-covering snow unable to bury you.
I will ride the winds and come for you
and the chills of life will grow warmer
and the gods will smile for you alone
but oh, my love, bewere of all that is, that was, that will be
and guard yourself well
for all this may not happen for a long, long while.
or in the night that's falling so dark
look into the warming fire burning for you
and see the firy looks of its spark -
my never wearing eye watches over you.
As you walk alone in the heave of the wind
and its whistling all-grabbing claws
listen to the howling of the lonely wolf
and the hunger of its all-grabbing jaws -
my beautiful nature song comes to you.
And when you're lost in this labyrint world
and the cover-up of the trackless snow
look up high in the immense sky
to where the angels and the eagles go -
my always burning star shines for you.
In deep, dark mine alost awandering
or climbing highness of a crumbling peek
hear the poem in the whispering words
of unconditionnal love I speak -
my constant bearing thoughts are with you.
You are not forsaken
you are not forgotten
you are not forlorn
the evil of this world unable to swallow you
the all-covering snow unable to bury you.
I will ride the winds and come for you
and the chills of life will grow warmer
and the gods will smile for you alone
but oh, my love, bewere of all that is, that was, that will be
and guard yourself well
for all this may not happen for a long, long while.
Britannia ajaloo.
Brutus kõnetas Diana’le Leogecia maas;
“Shades’i Jumalanna, ning Kütt, kes oma tahtmisest
jalutab keerletav sfäärile, ning läbi sügavus,
Teie kolmas valitseminel, Maa, vaat nüüd, ning õelge
mis maa, mis puhkamise istme Te palusite mind otsima,
mis kindel istmes, kus ma võin Teid kummardama,
just neile, templidega vandud, ning neitsid ohverdama.”
Kedale, altari ette magamises,
Diana õine visioonides vastas nõnda;
“Brutus, kaugel läänel, okeaanides lai,
mööda Gaul’i valdkond, üks maa on seal,
merevööduses magab, kus iidsesest hiidlased asuvad,
nüüd tühi, see mahub su rahvas. Sinna painutab
Teie tee, sealt Te leiate kestav istme.
Sealt Te pojatele uus Troy saab tõustud,
ning kuningated saavad sündind Teist, kelle kartud võim
saab imestada maailm, ning vallutavad julge riigid.”
“Shades’i Jumalanna, ning Kütt, kes oma tahtmisest
jalutab keerletav sfäärile, ning läbi sügavus,
Teie kolmas valitseminel, Maa, vaat nüüd, ning õelge
mis maa, mis puhkamise istme Te palusite mind otsima,
mis kindel istmes, kus ma võin Teid kummardama,
just neile, templidega vandud, ning neitsid ohverdama.”
Kedale, altari ette magamises,
Diana õine visioonides vastas nõnda;
“Brutus, kaugel läänel, okeaanides lai,
mööda Gaul’i valdkond, üks maa on seal,
merevööduses magab, kus iidsesest hiidlased asuvad,
nüüd tühi, see mahub su rahvas. Sinna painutab
Teie tee, sealt Te leiate kestav istme.
Sealt Te pojatele uus Troy saab tõustud,
ning kuningated saavad sündind Teist, kelle kartud võim
saab imestada maailm, ning vallutavad julge riigid.”
Au loodusele.
Au loodusele
lõi meid liivast
õpis meid naha
ja andis meid tiivad.
Au loodusele
lõi meid merest
andis meid austus
mis voolab me veres.
lõi meid liivast
õpis meid naha
ja andis meid tiivad.
Au loodusele
lõi meid merest
andis meid austus
mis voolab me veres.
If God could talk.
When you talk to God, it is called a 'prayer'.
When God talks to you, it is called 'scizofrenic'.
When God talks to you, it is called 'scizofrenic'.
Justification.
Behind your facade hides an indomitable lust for power and tyranny taking advantage of your pendencies. Fear is the doom, doom of us all. Instead of exterminating the weed we allow it to overgrow our function. All means are justified for the glory of our gods. Hang this heretic who's indulged in unchaste thoughts, silence him such as the laws of the vellums prescribe. Pusillanimous massacres the order of the day, all for the glory of our gods. Justification is our confession, the only way to keep our consciousness clean.
Intrinsic.
At night you have to assimilate life in the infinite realm of your intrinsic side. Find the missing parts of the mind and the hidden truth behind your dungeon of thoughts, this labyrinth that you call sense. Search for it, cause it has a reason and a meaning, if remembered and repeated. It is a guide not to be ignored by the weakness of your own foolishness. Feel, there's so much to feel, amnesia must confiscate an elusive link to consciousness. It's there, 'cause there's so much you don't know, even your own true face. It's there, facing what you can't have. Your ideals ain't true, they're naked and exposed to the bareness of what's real. Boundless fantasy becomes reality as you breathe water and run through the sand. Whispers and a scream, flying high, then falling down upon a face with no features or name. Exposed to life, you can only divine, so tell me, what's your reality?
Imperfect tense.
They're to blame, I can't forgive them for my weakness, my strength. I'm waiting for the perfect sign to reveal what lies inside. Why do you fear me? Why can't you see that there's neither blame nor forgiveness? I'm waiting for the perfect sign to reveal what lies inside. There's no lie in trying, is there? Why do you fear me? Why should I fear you? An open heart is just as confronting as honesty. Why can't I forgive? There's no blame in my life. Nor is there forgiveness for the pain.
This is my perfect revelation.
This is my perfect revelation.
Living forever?
Touch with your lips the loneliness of my tears,
touch with your fingertips the world of my fears.
Can we have forever?
Can we wait forever?
touch with your fingertips the world of my fears.
Can we have forever?
Can we wait forever?
The enigma of a reason.
How can life be what you want it to be if you can't find the emphasis and the reason in your own reality. Deviate from the search with episodic glimpses or of a spectrum no one can see, feel or declare. Slowly become aware of life and know that it knows its prophecies and find the emphasis and the reason in your own reality.
Today's odds.
Probability is like gravity. You cannot negociate with gravity. One day odds will catch up with you. Life is short, time is luck. Make the most of today.
Sparrow.
Sparrow - The window-sill's mourning.
The window-sill, on which the sparrow
rests and gently streaks his feathers
bladders in the orange setting sun.
The gray-white paint, for four years done
and in that time its cracks had gathered
matters not to hawk alurking from the barrow.
Its eyes are fixed to slits so narrow
awaits the wind its breath to gather
and as it comes, the hawk is gone.
Drying in the orange setting sun
all remains are blood-struck feathers
and the sill of window mourning sparrow.
Sparrow - The sparrow's last day.
A sparrow, in its silent gile
upon a sill itself sat down
streaked his feathers, dark and brown
and rested for a while.
It didn't see the slitted eyes
that upon the bird looked down
didn't see the shadow, dark and brown
in the barrow's guise.
A breath of wind the air did fill
claws came upon the sparrow down
a beak brought death, so dark and brown
and a stain upon the sill.
The window-sill, on which the sparrow
rests and gently streaks his feathers
bladders in the orange setting sun.
The gray-white paint, for four years done
and in that time its cracks had gathered
matters not to hawk alurking from the barrow.
Its eyes are fixed to slits so narrow
awaits the wind its breath to gather
and as it comes, the hawk is gone.
Drying in the orange setting sun
all remains are blood-struck feathers
and the sill of window mourning sparrow.
Sparrow - The sparrow's last day.
A sparrow, in its silent gile
upon a sill itself sat down
streaked his feathers, dark and brown
and rested for a while.
It didn't see the slitted eyes
that upon the bird looked down
didn't see the shadow, dark and brown
in the barrow's guise.
A breath of wind the air did fill
claws came upon the sparrow down
a beak brought death, so dark and brown
and a stain upon the sill.
Crime love - part I, II & III.
Crime love I... sour to sweet.
Where the sour turns to sweet
I would like to meet
rejoice our love
our destiny
oceans of motion and emotion, up and down
scattering mountains, all around
fire and ice, the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice, all in vain
call me jealous, say I'm wrong
call me childish, say I'm a fool
call me names
but have I committed another crime
then loving you?
the crime is not "to love you"
the crime is "not to love you"
so sentence me and condemn me
but do not pass judgement
mountains of motion and emotion, back and forth
scattering oceans, all around
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
Crime love II... sweet to sour.
I watch you in slow-motion
as you turn around and say
"I go now, go in vain"
leaving me with all the pain
as you slowly walk away.
You had all my devotion
every night and every day
but you didn't want the gain
now you leave me in the rain
as your sun gives no more gain.
In my mind is now commotion
I want yes but you say nay
you go, I go insane
my heart is filled with pain
as you slowly walk away.
I watch you in slow-motion
as you leave me in commotion
for my burns is no more lotion
you had all my devotion
but you slowly walk away
leaving me dismay
in a shower of loveless pain
as my heart is filled with rain.
You're going, all in vain
and the sweet will turn to sour
as our hearts are parting way…
Crime love III… sweet-sour.
My heart is scouting darkest tear
I listen to the night to hear the darkness call
My love for you, so far, so near
Like a kiss to waste and angel to fall
My voice is talking lonely words
Everything I wanted seems to crumble and fall
Sheer sight of you makes me hurt
And to night I turn, where the darkness calls
Can not you take me where angels sing?
And not to the night where darkness calls
It breaks me apart, this loving thing
It cracks me and kills me, I stumble and fall
Where the sour turns to sweet
I would like to meet
rejoice our love
our destiny
oceans of motion and emotion up and down
scattering mountains all around
fire and ice the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice all in vain
call me jealous, say I'm wrong
call me childish, say I'm a fool
call me names
but have I committed another crime then loving you?
the crime is not "to love you"
the crime is "not to love you"
so sentence me and condemn me
but do not pass judgment
A fire slowly burns my soul
Sparks fly off and blow and fall
My body seems to turn to ghoul
And flows into the night, where darkness calls
O, can not you come to me?
Come to me and make my falling stop
O, can not you love me?
Love me and shut the darkness up
mountains of motion and emotion back and forth
scattering oceans all around
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
And in lingering thrill a choir of angels sound their voices in a poem of despair;
Now do I lay broken upon the fields of sorrow
shattered as a mirror, splintered to a thousand parts
all gone now
all gone
hopes fly on the wind away into nothingness
dreams turn into nightmares taking control of my fears
my future but a faint echo in the distance of the past
my trust blown to bits into oblivion
and my love
o, my love
burned out to smouldering ashes and some curling smoke
and now I wait
I wait for the harvester to collect the weeping tears
fallen from my eyes upon the fields of sorrow
my weeping tears
once diamonds in your hands
but now grains of salt fallen upon the sand
the sand on the fields of sorrow
and as I lay there in the dirt
(my body now but food for the underworld)
I weep the final tear, a tear of blood
as I watch the last spark, the last spark of a once so brightly burning passion,
fade into the night
and as night once more returns the darkness
I force my body to rise and voice a shout towards the horizon,
but my solemn cry remains unheard
but it does not matter
cause now I wait
I wait for the harvester to collect my silenced soul
silenced by an untrue love
and so I lay me down
shattered, broken
upon the fields of sorrow
The sounds echoing in the night...
I watch you in slow-motion
as you turn around and say
"I go now, go in vain"
leaving me with all the pain
as you slowly walk away
You had all my devotion
every night and every day
but you didn't want the gain
now you leave me in the rain
as your sun gives no more rain
In my mind is now commotion
I want yes but you say nay
you go, I go insane
my heart is filled with pain
as you slowly walk away
oceans of motion and emotion up and down
scattering mountains all around
mountains of motion and emotion back and forth
scattering oceans all around
fire and ice the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice all in vain
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
And in lingering thrill the choir of angels sound their voices again in dismay;
Tears in my eyes.
The setting sun a sight for my sorrows.
My sores explore the twilight-zone to its most outer reaches.
Dusk falls with a soft sigh.
And the impending night covers my sadness with a blanket of grieve.
And so I await dawn with tears in my eyes.
A cry on my lips.
The crows in the trees a rasping choir.
The sounds as spears through the vastness of the dark.
Echoes return with a sarcastic answer.
And the impending silence hovers as a pack of wolves in the night.
And so I await dawn with a cry on my lips.
Pain in my heart.
An imaginary knife impales my chest.
Blood, dark and rich like ripe berries, flows down my body.
It is absorbed by the hungering grounds on which I have sat me down.
And the impending feelings of hurt rip through my mind.
And so I await dawn with pain in my heart.
And as slowly over the ocean the sun sets,
I heave my arms towards the sky and voice my cry.
And as my heart stops its drumming rhythm,
my tears obliterate into a cloud of silver dust.
The sounds echoing in fright...
I watch you in slow-motion
as you leave me in commotion
for my burns is no more lotion
you had all my devotion
but you slowly walk away
leaving me dismay
in a shower of loveless pain
as my heart is filled with rain
you're going, all in vain
and the sweet will turn to sour
as our hearts are parting way...
And in lingering thrill the choir of angels keeps still
their voices an echo in forever-lasting loneliness
slowly fading away...
Where the sour turns to sweet
I would like to meet
rejoice our love
our destiny
oceans of motion and emotion, up and down
scattering mountains, all around
fire and ice, the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice, all in vain
call me jealous, say I'm wrong
call me childish, say I'm a fool
call me names
but have I committed another crime
then loving you?
the crime is not "to love you"
the crime is "not to love you"
so sentence me and condemn me
but do not pass judgement
mountains of motion and emotion, back and forth
scattering oceans, all around
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
Crime love II... sweet to sour.
I watch you in slow-motion
as you turn around and say
"I go now, go in vain"
leaving me with all the pain
as you slowly walk away.
You had all my devotion
every night and every day
but you didn't want the gain
now you leave me in the rain
as your sun gives no more gain.
In my mind is now commotion
I want yes but you say nay
you go, I go insane
my heart is filled with pain
as you slowly walk away.
I watch you in slow-motion
as you leave me in commotion
for my burns is no more lotion
you had all my devotion
but you slowly walk away
leaving me dismay
in a shower of loveless pain
as my heart is filled with rain.
You're going, all in vain
and the sweet will turn to sour
as our hearts are parting way…
Crime love III… sweet-sour.
My heart is scouting darkest tear
I listen to the night to hear the darkness call
My love for you, so far, so near
Like a kiss to waste and angel to fall
My voice is talking lonely words
Everything I wanted seems to crumble and fall
Sheer sight of you makes me hurt
And to night I turn, where the darkness calls
Can not you take me where angels sing?
And not to the night where darkness calls
It breaks me apart, this loving thing
It cracks me and kills me, I stumble and fall
Where the sour turns to sweet
I would like to meet
rejoice our love
our destiny
oceans of motion and emotion up and down
scattering mountains all around
fire and ice the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice all in vain
call me jealous, say I'm wrong
call me childish, say I'm a fool
call me names
but have I committed another crime then loving you?
the crime is not "to love you"
the crime is "not to love you"
so sentence me and condemn me
but do not pass judgment
A fire slowly burns my soul
Sparks fly off and blow and fall
My body seems to turn to ghoul
And flows into the night, where darkness calls
O, can not you come to me?
Come to me and make my falling stop
O, can not you love me?
Love me and shut the darkness up
mountains of motion and emotion back and forth
scattering oceans all around
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
And in lingering thrill a choir of angels sound their voices in a poem of despair;
Now do I lay broken upon the fields of sorrow
shattered as a mirror, splintered to a thousand parts
all gone now
all gone
hopes fly on the wind away into nothingness
dreams turn into nightmares taking control of my fears
my future but a faint echo in the distance of the past
my trust blown to bits into oblivion
and my love
o, my love
burned out to smouldering ashes and some curling smoke
and now I wait
I wait for the harvester to collect the weeping tears
fallen from my eyes upon the fields of sorrow
my weeping tears
once diamonds in your hands
but now grains of salt fallen upon the sand
the sand on the fields of sorrow
and as I lay there in the dirt
(my body now but food for the underworld)
I weep the final tear, a tear of blood
as I watch the last spark, the last spark of a once so brightly burning passion,
fade into the night
and as night once more returns the darkness
I force my body to rise and voice a shout towards the horizon,
but my solemn cry remains unheard
but it does not matter
cause now I wait
I wait for the harvester to collect my silenced soul
silenced by an untrue love
and so I lay me down
shattered, broken
upon the fields of sorrow
The sounds echoing in the night...
I watch you in slow-motion
as you turn around and say
"I go now, go in vain"
leaving me with all the pain
as you slowly walk away
You had all my devotion
every night and every day
but you didn't want the gain
now you leave me in the rain
as your sun gives no more rain
In my mind is now commotion
I want yes but you say nay
you go, I go insane
my heart is filled with pain
as you slowly walk away
oceans of motion and emotion up and down
scattering mountains all around
mountains of motion and emotion back and forth
scattering oceans all around
fire and ice the same pain
the same gain
desire and dice all in vain
desire on fire
dice on ice
and let the sour turn to sweet
where our hearts will meet
And in lingering thrill the choir of angels sound their voices again in dismay;
Tears in my eyes.
The setting sun a sight for my sorrows.
My sores explore the twilight-zone to its most outer reaches.
Dusk falls with a soft sigh.
And the impending night covers my sadness with a blanket of grieve.
And so I await dawn with tears in my eyes.
A cry on my lips.
The crows in the trees a rasping choir.
The sounds as spears through the vastness of the dark.
Echoes return with a sarcastic answer.
And the impending silence hovers as a pack of wolves in the night.
And so I await dawn with a cry on my lips.
Pain in my heart.
An imaginary knife impales my chest.
Blood, dark and rich like ripe berries, flows down my body.
It is absorbed by the hungering grounds on which I have sat me down.
And the impending feelings of hurt rip through my mind.
And so I await dawn with pain in my heart.
And as slowly over the ocean the sun sets,
I heave my arms towards the sky and voice my cry.
And as my heart stops its drumming rhythm,
my tears obliterate into a cloud of silver dust.
The sounds echoing in fright...
I watch you in slow-motion
as you leave me in commotion
for my burns is no more lotion
you had all my devotion
but you slowly walk away
leaving me dismay
in a shower of loveless pain
as my heart is filled with rain
you're going, all in vain
and the sweet will turn to sour
as our hearts are parting way...
And in lingering thrill the choir of angels keeps still
their voices an echo in forever-lasting loneliness
slowly fading away...
World.
I felt the world around me rolling
though it was not rolling by
the brush of sudden wind who’s howling
breath took dust and papers in the sky.
I felt my mind then tumbling, tolling
tolling bells in scream and cry
the rush of diz’ as mind tried folding
all the papers back in line.
Then the wind at me was scolding
as I blew the dust op high
I felt the world around still rolling
though it was not, it was I.
though it was not rolling by
the brush of sudden wind who’s howling
breath took dust and papers in the sky.
I felt my mind then tumbling, tolling
tolling bells in scream and cry
the rush of diz’ as mind tried folding
all the papers back in line.
Then the wind at me was scolding
as I blew the dust op high
I felt the world around still rolling
though it was not, it was I.
Nüüd ja Praegu.
Oma tervest elust anna üks ainuke hetk,
kõiki neid, mis oli enne,
kõiki, mis on tulemas pärast, - ära arvesta,
nii teed täiuslikuks selle praeguse,
raevukalt vaimustav, täiuslik andes,
mõte ja tunne ning hing ja meel –
ühendatud hetkest, mis toob lõpuks
sind minu ümber, sind mu alla, mu üle, -
mina, - kindel et,
hoolimata tulekul aegadest, läinud aegadest, -
nende aegade ühes hetkes tiksudes,
sa mind armastad!
Kaua see pinev ootus võib kesta?
Ah, kallis – sel hetkel igaveseks
– just see ja mitte enam –
kui äärmises joovastuses me haarame teineteisel ümbert,
kui põsed põlevad,
käed sirutavad,
silmad sulguvad
ja huuled kohtuvad!
kõiki neid, mis oli enne,
kõiki, mis on tulemas pärast, - ära arvesta,
nii teed täiuslikuks selle praeguse,
raevukalt vaimustav, täiuslik andes,
mõte ja tunne ning hing ja meel –
ühendatud hetkest, mis toob lõpuks
sind minu ümber, sind mu alla, mu üle, -
mina, - kindel et,
hoolimata tulekul aegadest, läinud aegadest, -
nende aegade ühes hetkes tiksudes,
sa mind armastad!
Kaua see pinev ootus võib kesta?
Ah, kallis – sel hetkel igaveseks
– just see ja mitte enam –
kui äärmises joovastuses me haarame teineteisel ümbert,
kui põsed põlevad,
käed sirutavad,
silmad sulguvad
ja huuled kohtuvad!
I am what you name me by.
Past am I and future am I, with the present as a flittering interlude. Both one and many am I, a crowd on my own. Both none and all, I am everything in nothing. Thesis am I as I am antithesis. I am both builder and destroyer. I exist, but am not. I am totality in emptiness. I am here and there, everywhere and nowhere. I am king and common man. I am the slave and the enslaver. I am the addiction and the addicted. I wound and I heal. I am dead, yet I am alive. I make things flow in all directions. I am the dream as I am the reality. Everybody knows me and what I stand for, yet no one understands what I create. I am in your world as I am in other worlds, other realities. Even other dimensions. Differently grasped, but essentially the same. Worlds, realities,
dimensions you cannot even begin to imagine. Everywhere I am the same, everywhere something else. I am the question, I am the answer. I am the truth, I am the lie. You know what I am, but you do not know. Time is my name, time is my game. But with that you still don't know me. But maybe one day… But I tell you, I am on your minds. All of your minds. All the time.
dimensions you cannot even begin to imagine. Everywhere I am the same, everywhere something else. I am the question, I am the answer. I am the truth, I am the lie. You know what I am, but you do not know. Time is my name, time is my game. But with that you still don't know me. But maybe one day… But I tell you, I am on your minds. All of your minds. All the time.
Poet's Words.
The words of a poet do not flow from the poet's pen nor from the ink in it.
Neither do they flow from the lips of the poet or the breath gently
finding its way through them.
Nay, the words of a poet flow from the heart and from the soul, from the
deepest reaches therein right up to the point of overflow.
The words of a poet are the stuff that dreams are made of.
Neither do they flow from the lips of the poet or the breath gently
finding its way through them.
Nay, the words of a poet flow from the heart and from the soul, from the
deepest reaches therein right up to the point of overflow.
The words of a poet are the stuff that dreams are made of.
Rise & Fall.
When risen to the top of the world,
one finds that the view is the best.
But beware!
The fall is also the hardest!
one finds that the view is the best.
But beware!
The fall is also the hardest!
Emotionless.
Hey there, how are you?
Are you doing fine
in this world so wide?
Are you walking in the streets
or do you feel the need to hide?
Are you glad just to be
do you think of all that was?
Do you feel regret
and have your sins come to pass?
I'm writing to you now
this here letter
but don't you worry
it's not to tell you
that I still hate you
no, it's not that
it's just to tell you
how I feel
and how we fell apart
how this fell apart.
Are you happy out here
in this great, wide world?
Are you satisfied
with the way it twirls?
Do you think about yourself
or do you miss your little girl?
When you lay your head down on your pillow
how do you sleep at night?
Do you not turn and toss
and swear and cry?
Do you even know
if we are all right?
If all this is all right?
It's been a long, hard road
without you by my side
faced the dangers all alone
and together we'd only just strife
how did you live through
all the nights we cried?
You broke your mother's heart
you broke your children for life.
It's not okay
but we're all right.
I remember the days
you were a hero in my eyes
but those are just long lost memories
of mine.
They once were true
they now just lies.
I spent so many years
learning to survive
but it worked out well
I do all right.
And now I'm writing just to let you know
I'm still alive.
Yes, I'm still alive.
And we're all right.
(Written together with my brother Christian)
Are you doing fine
in this world so wide?
Are you walking in the streets
or do you feel the need to hide?
Are you glad just to be
do you think of all that was?
Do you feel regret
and have your sins come to pass?
I'm writing to you now
this here letter
but don't you worry
it's not to tell you
that I still hate you
no, it's not that
it's just to tell you
how I feel
and how we fell apart
how this fell apart.
Are you happy out here
in this great, wide world?
Are you satisfied
with the way it twirls?
Do you think about yourself
or do you miss your little girl?
When you lay your head down on your pillow
how do you sleep at night?
Do you not turn and toss
and swear and cry?
Do you even know
if we are all right?
If all this is all right?
It's been a long, hard road
without you by my side
faced the dangers all alone
and together we'd only just strife
how did you live through
all the nights we cried?
You broke your mother's heart
you broke your children for life.
It's not okay
but we're all right.
I remember the days
you were a hero in my eyes
but those are just long lost memories
of mine.
They once were true
they now just lies.
I spent so many years
learning to survive
but it worked out well
I do all right.
And now I'm writing just to let you know
I'm still alive.
Yes, I'm still alive.
And we're all right.
(Written together with my brother Christian)
Set me free.
Please untear this outlaw and set him free.
So that I may roam once again the bright virtues of light,
instead of lurking in the shadows of the sins of dark.
Unlock the chains around my heart,
untear the ropes around my soul.
Set me free.
So that I may roam once again the bright virtues of light,
instead of lurking in the shadows of the sins of dark.
Unlock the chains around my heart,
untear the ropes around my soul.
Set me free.
De zwarte kraai.
Vliegend over witte wolken
door weer, door wind, door droog, door nat
zwevend over heuvelruggen
dalen, veen en stad en land
door pluimen rook en lovergroen
op vleugeltoppen zwevend
door zonnestralen warmend
en door ijskou licht’lijk bevend
als stervenslied uit kerker
grafkist of een urne
zing ik krassend hoog
mijn klaagelijk nocturne
en als de laatste noten van mijn klaagzang
door wind worden verwaaid
strijk ik neder op een grafzerk
ik, de zwarte kraai.
door weer, door wind, door droog, door nat
zwevend over heuvelruggen
dalen, veen en stad en land
door pluimen rook en lovergroen
op vleugeltoppen zwevend
door zonnestralen warmend
en door ijskou licht’lijk bevend
als stervenslied uit kerker
grafkist of een urne
zing ik krassend hoog
mijn klaagelijk nocturne
en als de laatste noten van mijn klaagzang
door wind worden verwaaid
strijk ik neder op een grafzerk
ik, de zwarte kraai.
Träume, Flüsse.
Traum der Traum des Träumens
die Wirklichkeit nicht wirklich wirklich
sondern nur ein Traum geträumt
du weißt doch, oder vielleicht ahnst du nur
ein Traum ist wie ein Fluß, -sei er groß, sei er klein-
ausgelegt in das Land der Realität
der Fluß, das Wasser des Lebens
der ständig seinen Lauf verändert
und ein Träumer ist ein Boot
das diesem Lauf nur folgen kann
weil er ohne Rudern ist
so fährst du, wohin der Fluß dich zieht
über Wasserfälle und durch dunkele Wälder
durch Sonnenschein und durch Regen
du lernst von dem, was hinter dir und weißt nie, was vor dir liegt
so kämpfst du Tag für Tag darum
einfach zwischen den Ufern zu bleiben
und dan wachst du auf, ganz nass
und du weißt ganz sicher,obwohl es nur ein Traum war
du bist wieder mal umgekipt.
die Wirklichkeit nicht wirklich wirklich
sondern nur ein Traum geträumt
du weißt doch, oder vielleicht ahnst du nur
ein Traum ist wie ein Fluß, -sei er groß, sei er klein-
ausgelegt in das Land der Realität
der Fluß, das Wasser des Lebens
der ständig seinen Lauf verändert
und ein Träumer ist ein Boot
das diesem Lauf nur folgen kann
weil er ohne Rudern ist
so fährst du, wohin der Fluß dich zieht
über Wasserfälle und durch dunkele Wälder
durch Sonnenschein und durch Regen
du lernst von dem, was hinter dir und weißt nie, was vor dir liegt
so kämpfst du Tag für Tag darum
einfach zwischen den Ufern zu bleiben
und dan wachst du auf, ganz nass
und du weißt ganz sicher,obwohl es nur ein Traum war
du bist wieder mal umgekipt.
A fool’s tool.
Time is linear
memory a stranger
history for fools
and justice the order of the day
not true, not false, but gray.
And the water of your friendship
feels salty on your tongue
so you bounce the gong of eternity
and see it’s just a joke
cause time is linear
memory is a stranger
and history is for fools
and a man is a tool
in the hands of the great God Almighty.
And in doubt you ask yourself;
which tool am I?
memory a stranger
history for fools
and justice the order of the day
not true, not false, but gray.
And the water of your friendship
feels salty on your tongue
so you bounce the gong of eternity
and see it’s just a joke
cause time is linear
memory is a stranger
and history is for fools
and a man is a tool
in the hands of the great God Almighty.
And in doubt you ask yourself;
which tool am I?
Liebe mich.
Liebe mich
liebe mich nicht
für nur einen Moment
oder für Ewig
nur gefutterd zu werden
oder zu hungern
nur getöted zu werden
oder zu leben
liebe mich
liebe mich nicht
was es auch sein wird
erinnere, ich liebe Dich...
liebe mich nicht
für nur einen Moment
oder für Ewig
nur gefutterd zu werden
oder zu hungern
nur getöted zu werden
oder zu leben
liebe mich
liebe mich nicht
was es auch sein wird
erinnere, ich liebe Dich...
Âime-moi.
Âime-moi
n’âime moi pas
pour un moment seulement
ou pour éternel
seulement trop-est nourrez
ou trop-est affamez
seulement trop-est tuez
ou trop-est vivrez
âime-moi
n’âime moi pas
qu’est-ce que pout-être
rappelet-te, je T’âime...
n’âime moi pas
pour un moment seulement
ou pour éternel
seulement trop-est nourrez
ou trop-est affamez
seulement trop-est tuez
ou trop-est vivrez
âime-moi
n’âime moi pas
qu’est-ce que pout-être
rappelet-te, je T’âime...
Houd van me.
Houd van me
houd niet van me
voor alleen één moment
of voor eeuwig
alleen te worden gevoerd
of te hongeren
alleen te worden gedood
of te leven
houd van me
houd niet van me
wat het ook zal zijn
onthoud, ik houd van Jou...
houd niet van me
voor alleen één moment
of voor eeuwig
alleen te worden gevoerd
of te hongeren
alleen te worden gedood
of te leven
houd van me
houd niet van me
wat het ook zal zijn
onthoud, ik houd van Jou...
Armasta mind.
Armasta mind
armasta mind mitte
just üheks momendiks
või igaveseks
et olla toidetud
või nälgitud
et olla tapetud
või elatud
armasta mind
armasta mind mitte
mis sa ka ei tee
pea meeles, armastan Sind...
armasta mind mitte
just üheks momendiks
või igaveseks
et olla toidetud
või nälgitud
et olla tapetud
või elatud
armasta mind
armasta mind mitte
mis sa ka ei tee
pea meeles, armastan Sind...
Love me.
Love me
love me not
for just one moment
or eternity
just to be fed
or to hunger
just to be killed
or to live
love me
love me not
whatever it will be
remember, I love Thee...
love me not
for just one moment
or eternity
just to be fed
or to hunger
just to be killed
or to live
love me
love me not
whatever it will be
remember, I love Thee...
Face in the mirror.
People look in the mirror and see themselves. Only themselves.
When I look in the mirror, I see so much more. I see past, present and future all intertwined.
I see how it was, how it is and how it is going to be.
I see what is not and what could have been.
But above all, I see you.
What does that mean?
When I look in the mirror, I see so much more. I see past, present and future all intertwined.
I see how it was, how it is and how it is going to be.
I see what is not and what could have been.
But above all, I see you.
What does that mean?
Hell to pay.
Some people think they go to heaven if they pray a little
and confess every sunday in a quiet corner of some church
in anonimity what they did wrong that week.
I know it doesn't work like that.
I know that there'll be hell to pay someday
for all the sins we committed in this life.
and confess every sunday in a quiet corner of some church
in anonimity what they did wrong that week.
I know it doesn't work like that.
I know that there'll be hell to pay someday
for all the sins we committed in this life.
Yesterday came the bill for me.
I thought: „What the hell?" (no pun intended)
It said:
Committed 7 sins, namely:
Luxuria - Lust
Gula – Gluttony
Avaritia – Greed
Acedia – Sloth
Ira – Wrath
Invidia – Envy
Superbia - Pride
Payment:
2x purgatory
1x hell's night
1x burning at stake
3x demon's dash
and last but not least: Eternal damnation.
And after reading this all I thought:„ Does the devil accept creditcard?"
Één gedachte.
Één gedachte
één gevoel
één emotie
met één doel.
Één lach
één traan
één zucht
in één waan.
Één mening
één feit
één maal
voor altijd.
één gevoel
één emotie
met één doel.
Één lach
één traan
één zucht
in één waan.
Één mening
één feit
één maal
voor altijd.
Traum.
War nicht die Nacht so wunderschön
hätte ich fast geglaubt, es war ein Traum.
Ich liege hier, dich neben mir
es ist kein Traum, ich glaub' es kaum.
Doch es ist so, so wunderschön
du bist bei mir, ich hab' dich hier
so wunderschön, fast wie ein Traum.
Das Morgenlicht auf dein Gesicht
küsst ein Traum, der wirklich ist.
Du neben mir, ich glaub' es nicht
doch fühle ich es, Herzeslicht.
Wie in ein Traum berühr ich dich
dann wachst du auf und lächelst schlicht.
Ich küsse dich auf dein Gesicht
wie eben vorher das Morgenlicht
geküsst ein Traum, der wirklich ist.
Der Tag erwacht, der Traum ist weg
die wirklichkeit erfüllt den Raum
ich stehe auf und gehe raus
die wirklichkeit erfüllt mein Zweck.
Den Tag verflüchtet, ich spür es kaum
so sei es denn, hier ohne dich
aber was auch kommt, ich trauere nicht
Heut' Nacht fängt an ein neuer Traum.
Die Abend lässt sein Decken runter
voller Erwartung klopft mein Herz
dein wiedersehen macht mich Munter
die Ernst des Tages verflieht im Scherz.
Die Sonne lässt sein lämpchen runter
dein Gesicht beleuchtet nur der Kerz'.
Ich sehe dich, aber glaub' es kaum
ins Leben gerufen als reale Traum
aber ich fühle es, du bist mein Herz.
Die Nacht ist wieder wunderschön
es sei als wär' ich in ein Traum.
Du liegst schon hier, dicht neben mir
das Licht der Mont küsst dein Gesicht
in träumlich Glück berühr ich dich
du bist bei mir, ich läch'le schlicht
so wunderschön, als wie ein Traum
und küsse dich...
hätte ich fast geglaubt, es war ein Traum.
Ich liege hier, dich neben mir
es ist kein Traum, ich glaub' es kaum.
Doch es ist so, so wunderschön
du bist bei mir, ich hab' dich hier
so wunderschön, fast wie ein Traum.
Das Morgenlicht auf dein Gesicht
küsst ein Traum, der wirklich ist.
Du neben mir, ich glaub' es nicht
doch fühle ich es, Herzeslicht.
Wie in ein Traum berühr ich dich
dann wachst du auf und lächelst schlicht.
Ich küsse dich auf dein Gesicht
wie eben vorher das Morgenlicht
geküsst ein Traum, der wirklich ist.
Der Tag erwacht, der Traum ist weg
die wirklichkeit erfüllt den Raum
ich stehe auf und gehe raus
die wirklichkeit erfüllt mein Zweck.
Den Tag verflüchtet, ich spür es kaum
so sei es denn, hier ohne dich
aber was auch kommt, ich trauere nicht
Heut' Nacht fängt an ein neuer Traum.
Die Abend lässt sein Decken runter
voller Erwartung klopft mein Herz
dein wiedersehen macht mich Munter
die Ernst des Tages verflieht im Scherz.
Die Sonne lässt sein lämpchen runter
dein Gesicht beleuchtet nur der Kerz'.
Ich sehe dich, aber glaub' es kaum
ins Leben gerufen als reale Traum
aber ich fühle es, du bist mein Herz.
Die Nacht ist wieder wunderschön
es sei als wär' ich in ein Traum.
Du liegst schon hier, dicht neben mir
das Licht der Mont küsst dein Gesicht
in träumlich Glück berühr ich dich
du bist bei mir, ich läch'le schlicht
so wunderschön, als wie ein Traum
und küsse dich...
Nevermore.
One evening late, 't was late December, softly wrapping 't was I heard,
how peculiar thought I, I remember, that must be a mockingbird.
On the snow rich still, still tender, the bird was ticking frantically,
so I left my chair and went there, towards the window then I went there,
I left chair and paper and to the window went there,
curious 'bout its errantry.
Though then in wonder, wondrous lore, for it was no mocking-bird,
't was the Raven from Poe's Nevermore, which I gently wrapping heard.
Opened up to snow, 't was bleak December, the Raven hopped then on my desk,
and spoke to me: “I do remember, from the older days of yore,
't was long ago, but I do remember from before,
this room to be some more grotesque.”
I said: “'t has been long since Nevermore, the older days are gone and done,
all it is now, some book's lore, all it was with years has gone.”
“To err is human”, the Raven said, “forever go the tale and lore!”
Then the Raven laughed at that: "Lenore will never be no more,
her lore has gone, but yours begun as hers is yore.
Now Nevermore is at your door!”
So I frightened, was this the end? A wrap, a tap, a knock on door?
Behind it a black robed gent'? One swift move of ax, then Nevermore?
“O Nevermore, so evermore, why have you come then at my door?
I am a single man and poor, have none in hand to spent,
just me here is with none in hand, with none to spent
to which I owe this damning lore?”
I fell to knees and clasped my hands and prayed to all the Gods I know.
The Raven laughed: “Do understand, Nevermore to no God does bow!”
The hours fell, the dawn came calling, the sun arose besides the hill,
but I still was in darkness falling, 'till I thought I fall no more,
I fell and fell in darkness's core, fell more and more,
waiting for the foretold thrill.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I prayed there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before,
But the silence stayed unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
Until the only word there spoken was whispered softly: "Nevermore!"
This I whispered and an echo murmured softly back: "Nevermore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
The day went by in maddening rush, the Raven only rasped his tale,
then dusk set in in quiet hush, the room went dark as I went pale.
A quiet sound, a silent scratch, my destiny was at my door,
to faith and doom I opened up, opened up to the Raven's tale,
to destiny's tale, opening to the Raven's hail,
to the spirit of the Nevermore.
In fright I tumbled back and fell, closed my eyes and cried out loud,
the echo through the forest yelled, a squirrel fled in silent doubt.
"O Nevermore, I humbly ask, why this calling at my door?
I am a man of peaceful tasks, of silent words and quiet sounds,
when to speak and when to shout, I know my bounds,
why have I earned your damning lore?”
A nocturne rasp came then aloud, I opened eyes, surprised much more,
and saw as a foreboding scout, a giant Crow there at my door.
I asked surprised: “Are you the one? The one they call the Nevermore?”
The Crow then laughed: “No, I am none, but nevertheless stout,
here I am, but still am not, have no doubt,
I am never any more!”
“I have come to take your soul, to the world that's Nether,
I am which takes ghost and ghoul, and faith and doom I gather.
Nevermore is who I serve, evermore 'till end of ever,
take the souls who so deserve, all those spirits and those souls,
all those deserving, whether goods or fouls,
with me to the Never.”
I cried out loud in agony: “You ain't getting none of me!”
Jumped up in mortal ecstasy and screamed: “Why don't you leave me be?”
I slammed the door, the hinges creaked, sat me in my chair and sighed,
the Crow then through the window sneaked: “Never fear, for I am here,
you look to left, I am the right, you close the front, I come from rear,
You can run away but cannot hide!'
"Prophet!", said I, "thing of evil, Prophet still, if bird or devil,
by the Heavens above us I swear, I do not run or just be gone!"
My anger flared, I grabbed my gun and shouted: “My life ain't nothing worth,
but if I have to go, won't go alone! Thee Prophet, thing of evil,
I'll take thee with me, be it to either God or Devil.”
And shot the Crow back to the Netherworld.
Silence set in, as I turned around, looked the Raven in his eye,
said to him: “I'll not be bound, for Nevermore I will not cry!”
The Raven now his wings did spread and down upon the still he sat,
there he turned around in dread: “I leave a black plume as a token,
of the lies thy soul hath spoken, leave thy loneliness unbroken,
but Nevermore does not forget!'
“For now thy doom has been averted, take my beak now from thy heart,
take my form from off thy still, as I will now fly and part,
go thee back into the tempest and the night's darkly waters,
watch my black plume and hear the waters wash ashore,
wait then for the moment I'll be knocking,
knocking once more at your door!"
The Raven then his ebony wings did spread and took off into the night,
as a sudden realization took uphold there of my fright,
be it faith or doom I saw, in the dark eyes of the Raven,
be his lore from devils or gods, surely he was no craven,
was his crest so shorn and shaven, a God, a Devil, or just a Raven,
I'll have no fear no more of Nevermore!
But now I sit here, years have gone but still I clearly remember,
all that transpired on that weary and bleak day that late December,
remember all the tales of Crow and Raven, feeding, laving,
all that senses were then craving, remember all the lore,
all the stories of the glories of the long gone days of yore,
of the spirit Nevermore.
I just sit here, weary, dreary, fearing though I fear no more,
waiting for that tap, that wrap, that scratch on door,
for the ebony robed gent', waving with his ax afore.
Thinking of a radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore,
of such a rare and radiant maiden, of whom I'm descendant,
who was taken by the Nevermore.
And so I sit here, just remember, that day in bleak and dark December,
as each separate dying ember wrights its ghostly shadow on the floor.
And eagerly I wish the morrow to wash away my tears and sorrow,
as the silken sad uncertain rustling of the gently flowing curtain
thrill me, fill me with fantastic horrors never felt before,
terrors of the Nevermore.
And I sit engaged in guessing, while no syllable expressing,
as I think of the fowl whose fiery eyes burned into my bosom's core.
The plume I watch and sit divining, with my head at rest reclining,
on the cushion's sliver lining that the embers glow is gloating o'er,
all the while my tears are flowing, thinking of the Raven's lore,
'bout all that is, yet is no more.
Suddenly the air grows denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
as I hear some angel's quiet footsteps tinkle on the tufted floor.
"Wretch", I cry, "thy God retreat thee, does he not know,
I cannot part from all the mem'ries of the days of yore."
But then I know it is was no angel that flew through my opened window,
and so quoth the Raven: "Nevermore..."
And the Raven, never flitting, quietly sitting, silently sitting,
on an ancient bust of Pallas hanging 'bove the chamber door.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon ghastly dreaming,
and the embers guide his shadow from the ceiling to the floor.
And my soul from out that shadow that is shading more and more,
shall be lifted- nevermore!
how peculiar thought I, I remember, that must be a mockingbird.
On the snow rich still, still tender, the bird was ticking frantically,
so I left my chair and went there, towards the window then I went there,
I left chair and paper and to the window went there,
curious 'bout its errantry.
Though then in wonder, wondrous lore, for it was no mocking-bird,
't was the Raven from Poe's Nevermore, which I gently wrapping heard.
Opened up to snow, 't was bleak December, the Raven hopped then on my desk,
and spoke to me: “I do remember, from the older days of yore,
't was long ago, but I do remember from before,
this room to be some more grotesque.”
I said: “'t has been long since Nevermore, the older days are gone and done,
all it is now, some book's lore, all it was with years has gone.”
“To err is human”, the Raven said, “forever go the tale and lore!”
Then the Raven laughed at that: "Lenore will never be no more,
her lore has gone, but yours begun as hers is yore.
Now Nevermore is at your door!”
So I frightened, was this the end? A wrap, a tap, a knock on door?
Behind it a black robed gent'? One swift move of ax, then Nevermore?
“O Nevermore, so evermore, why have you come then at my door?
I am a single man and poor, have none in hand to spent,
just me here is with none in hand, with none to spent
to which I owe this damning lore?”
I fell to knees and clasped my hands and prayed to all the Gods I know.
The Raven laughed: “Do understand, Nevermore to no God does bow!”
The hours fell, the dawn came calling, the sun arose besides the hill,
but I still was in darkness falling, 'till I thought I fall no more,
I fell and fell in darkness's core, fell more and more,
waiting for the foretold thrill.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I prayed there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before,
But the silence stayed unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
Until the only word there spoken was whispered softly: "Nevermore!"
This I whispered and an echo murmured softly back: "Nevermore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
The day went by in maddening rush, the Raven only rasped his tale,
then dusk set in in quiet hush, the room went dark as I went pale.
A quiet sound, a silent scratch, my destiny was at my door,
to faith and doom I opened up, opened up to the Raven's tale,
to destiny's tale, opening to the Raven's hail,
to the spirit of the Nevermore.
In fright I tumbled back and fell, closed my eyes and cried out loud,
the echo through the forest yelled, a squirrel fled in silent doubt.
"O Nevermore, I humbly ask, why this calling at my door?
I am a man of peaceful tasks, of silent words and quiet sounds,
when to speak and when to shout, I know my bounds,
why have I earned your damning lore?”
A nocturne rasp came then aloud, I opened eyes, surprised much more,
and saw as a foreboding scout, a giant Crow there at my door.
I asked surprised: “Are you the one? The one they call the Nevermore?”
The Crow then laughed: “No, I am none, but nevertheless stout,
here I am, but still am not, have no doubt,
I am never any more!”
“I have come to take your soul, to the world that's Nether,
I am which takes ghost and ghoul, and faith and doom I gather.
Nevermore is who I serve, evermore 'till end of ever,
take the souls who so deserve, all those spirits and those souls,
all those deserving, whether goods or fouls,
with me to the Never.”
I cried out loud in agony: “You ain't getting none of me!”
Jumped up in mortal ecstasy and screamed: “Why don't you leave me be?”
I slammed the door, the hinges creaked, sat me in my chair and sighed,
the Crow then through the window sneaked: “Never fear, for I am here,
you look to left, I am the right, you close the front, I come from rear,
You can run away but cannot hide!'
"Prophet!", said I, "thing of evil, Prophet still, if bird or devil,
by the Heavens above us I swear, I do not run or just be gone!"
My anger flared, I grabbed my gun and shouted: “My life ain't nothing worth,
but if I have to go, won't go alone! Thee Prophet, thing of evil,
I'll take thee with me, be it to either God or Devil.”
And shot the Crow back to the Netherworld.
Silence set in, as I turned around, looked the Raven in his eye,
said to him: “I'll not be bound, for Nevermore I will not cry!”
The Raven now his wings did spread and down upon the still he sat,
there he turned around in dread: “I leave a black plume as a token,
of the lies thy soul hath spoken, leave thy loneliness unbroken,
but Nevermore does not forget!'
“For now thy doom has been averted, take my beak now from thy heart,
take my form from off thy still, as I will now fly and part,
go thee back into the tempest and the night's darkly waters,
watch my black plume and hear the waters wash ashore,
wait then for the moment I'll be knocking,
knocking once more at your door!"
The Raven then his ebony wings did spread and took off into the night,
as a sudden realization took uphold there of my fright,
be it faith or doom I saw, in the dark eyes of the Raven,
be his lore from devils or gods, surely he was no craven,
was his crest so shorn and shaven, a God, a Devil, or just a Raven,
I'll have no fear no more of Nevermore!
But now I sit here, years have gone but still I clearly remember,
all that transpired on that weary and bleak day that late December,
remember all the tales of Crow and Raven, feeding, laving,
all that senses were then craving, remember all the lore,
all the stories of the glories of the long gone days of yore,
of the spirit Nevermore.
I just sit here, weary, dreary, fearing though I fear no more,
waiting for that tap, that wrap, that scratch on door,
for the ebony robed gent', waving with his ax afore.
Thinking of a radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore,
of such a rare and radiant maiden, of whom I'm descendant,
who was taken by the Nevermore.
And so I sit here, just remember, that day in bleak and dark December,
as each separate dying ember wrights its ghostly shadow on the floor.
And eagerly I wish the morrow to wash away my tears and sorrow,
as the silken sad uncertain rustling of the gently flowing curtain
thrill me, fill me with fantastic horrors never felt before,
terrors of the Nevermore.
And I sit engaged in guessing, while no syllable expressing,
as I think of the fowl whose fiery eyes burned into my bosom's core.
The plume I watch and sit divining, with my head at rest reclining,
on the cushion's sliver lining that the embers glow is gloating o'er,
all the while my tears are flowing, thinking of the Raven's lore,
'bout all that is, yet is no more.
Suddenly the air grows denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
as I hear some angel's quiet footsteps tinkle on the tufted floor.
"Wretch", I cry, "thy God retreat thee, does he not know,
I cannot part from all the mem'ries of the days of yore."
But then I know it is was no angel that flew through my opened window,
and so quoth the Raven: "Nevermore..."
And the Raven, never flitting, quietly sitting, silently sitting,
on an ancient bust of Pallas hanging 'bove the chamber door.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon ghastly dreaming,
and the embers guide his shadow from the ceiling to the floor.
And my soul from out that shadow that is shading more and more,
shall be lifted- nevermore!
Babel fell.
So many different voices
most of them I cannot tell
was it faith or peoples choices
o, Babel, why did you fell?
You tower of the races
your ruin still a cry
you fell in many places
o, Babel, tell me why?
The world a noisy multitude
so many voices in the air
our understanding still so crude
o, Babel, how did you dare?
Was it wrong choices, lost faith
that rang for you the doomsday-bell
couldn't say what your destiny made
but Babel, you fell!
most of them I cannot tell
was it faith or peoples choices
o, Babel, why did you fell?
You tower of the races
your ruin still a cry
you fell in many places
o, Babel, tell me why?
The world a noisy multitude
so many voices in the air
our understanding still so crude
o, Babel, how did you dare?
Was it wrong choices, lost faith
that rang for you the doomsday-bell
couldn't say what your destiny made
but Babel, you fell!
Een eeuwige herinnering.
In je ogen zie ik een vage schim gereflecteerd
van het kaarslicht dat eenzaam brandt in de stille nacht.
Achter deze schim de herinnering van voorbij, van verleden
van geweest en weg.
Eeuwen zijn voorbij gegaan
ja, nu ik erover nadenk, eeuwen zijn het geweest.
Eeuwen verlangen, eeuwen hoop, eeuwen pijn
eeuwen niet leven, eeuwen niet dood
eeuwen van wachten op…
Al eeuwen is het dat deze kaars voor je brand
eeuwen van diamanten tot zand
en al eeuwen zit ik hier
met je schedel in m’n hand…
van het kaarslicht dat eenzaam brandt in de stille nacht.
Achter deze schim de herinnering van voorbij, van verleden
van geweest en weg.
Eeuwen zijn voorbij gegaan
ja, nu ik erover nadenk, eeuwen zijn het geweest.
Eeuwen verlangen, eeuwen hoop, eeuwen pijn
eeuwen niet leven, eeuwen niet dood
eeuwen van wachten op…
Al eeuwen is het dat deze kaars voor je brand
eeuwen van diamanten tot zand
en al eeuwen zit ik hier
met je schedel in m’n hand…
And so the sun rises.
And so ...
so the sun rises to welcome the day
to melt the clouds away and to throw the lucky dices
And so ...
so the sun noons, half the day is gone
the birds are singing happy as the dices run
And so ...
so the sun descents to kiss the day good-bye
to give the moonlight sigh and to count the dices’ dents
And so ...
so the sun reflects on moon to shine into the night
upon the dices shines the light, fortune not to soon
so the sun rises to welcome the day
to melt the clouds away and to throw the lucky dices
And so ...
so the sun noons, half the day is gone
the birds are singing happy as the dices run
And so ...
so the sun descents to kiss the day good-bye
to give the moonlight sigh and to count the dices’ dents
And so ...
so the sun reflects on moon to shine into the night
upon the dices shines the light, fortune not to soon
Content love.
Lets content love- our lives the daily circle 'round the sun-
but content no more love
strive in thrill nor thrilling weep
all be as all was love- in sensation of the life unborn-
as was before love
only sleep!
What so wild and free- on the winds of change atwirling-
as words are?
in thrill for I and thou
in debate and strive- in ups and downs in termics curling-
as birds are
hawk on bough!
See the creature- with thine eye unfold apeeking-
through the shadows stalking
all the while the time we speak!
Hush and hide- in each others arms the seeking-
in close connect the talking
cheek on cheek!
Whatever could be so false and wrong- words that flow from lips unspoken-
so false as truth is
false to I or false to thee?
Where the poison- that leaves the souls abroken-
of the serpents tooth is
shun the tree.
Where the apple among the leaves- on the tree of Knowledge grits-
now reddens
never look for it or pry-
lest we loose our good- may loose our fruits and heritage-
and our Edens,
Adam and I.
Be a god to me in thrill- teach me the way divine-
and hold me
with a lingering charm!
Be a woman to me in thrill- let our love now intertwine-
and fold me
with thine arm!
Teach me ways of gods- the ways of joy and pleasure-
only teach, love!
As I to know ought
I will speak in truth- for all the gods to measure-
and thrill thy speech, love,
think thy thought.
Meet without a question- but ask whatever on thy mind-
if thou require it,
both of lingering demands,
laying in thrill- bound in thy magical bind-
my flesh and spirit
in thy hands.
That shall be the day- for us the earth shall stop spinning-
to come to-morrow
not the day to-day to-night.
I must for now- go back to this rocks beginning-
and bury sorrow
out of sight.
Must a strive with I- so I must a hesitant smile-
and little weep love
(Foolish me!)
and so in lingering thrill- in thy save arms and loving gile-
fall asleep love
loved by thee.
but content no more love
strive in thrill nor thrilling weep
all be as all was love- in sensation of the life unborn-
as was before love
only sleep!
What so wild and free- on the winds of change atwirling-
as words are?
in thrill for I and thou
in debate and strive- in ups and downs in termics curling-
as birds are
hawk on bough!
See the creature- with thine eye unfold apeeking-
through the shadows stalking
all the while the time we speak!
Hush and hide- in each others arms the seeking-
in close connect the talking
cheek on cheek!
Whatever could be so false and wrong- words that flow from lips unspoken-
so false as truth is
false to I or false to thee?
Where the poison- that leaves the souls abroken-
of the serpents tooth is
shun the tree.
Where the apple among the leaves- on the tree of Knowledge grits-
now reddens
never look for it or pry-
lest we loose our good- may loose our fruits and heritage-
and our Edens,
Adam and I.
Be a god to me in thrill- teach me the way divine-
and hold me
with a lingering charm!
Be a woman to me in thrill- let our love now intertwine-
and fold me
with thine arm!
Teach me ways of gods- the ways of joy and pleasure-
only teach, love!
As I to know ought
I will speak in truth- for all the gods to measure-
and thrill thy speech, love,
think thy thought.
Meet without a question- but ask whatever on thy mind-
if thou require it,
both of lingering demands,
laying in thrill- bound in thy magical bind-
my flesh and spirit
in thy hands.
That shall be the day- for us the earth shall stop spinning-
to come to-morrow
not the day to-day to-night.
I must for now- go back to this rocks beginning-
and bury sorrow
out of sight.
Must a strive with I- so I must a hesitant smile-
and little weep love
(Foolish me!)
and so in lingering thrill- in thy save arms and loving gile-
fall asleep love
loved by thee.
Live, don't be liven.
Rest not upon the souls of the restless.
I know you walk your path upon a weary road,
small and treacherous,
with the promise of heaven on your right,
the sight of hell on your left,
and the Angel of Death behind you,
tracing your steps.
Strengthen yourself with the thought
that both past and future
come forth out of the now.
Only the moment counts,
and then the next step.
Not the horizon before you,
the emptiness behind,
or the sights and promises beside you.
Find your strength in your own heart,
in your own soul,
and not those of the restless.
Live,
don't be liven…
I know you walk your path upon a weary road,
small and treacherous,
with the promise of heaven on your right,
the sight of hell on your left,
and the Angel of Death behind you,
tracing your steps.
Strengthen yourself with the thought
that both past and future
come forth out of the now.
Only the moment counts,
and then the next step.
Not the horizon before you,
the emptiness behind,
or the sights and promises beside you.
Find your strength in your own heart,
in your own soul,
and not those of the restless.
Live,
don't be liven…
Tragedy & Triumph
If you cannot conquer you inner demons, then a life of a hundred years can be a tragedy.
But if you do, then a life of a day can be a triumph.
But if you do, then a life of a day can be a triumph.
Miracle
Geniality is a concept of the mind, imagination a concept of the soul.
And where these two ends meet, miracles are born...
Silently I weep
The lights of the on the blanket of snow reflected rays of the sun
dance a sad dance on the sill of my window through which I look outside and think of you.
It's a dance intermittent.
Just like the many threads of thoughts of you that play through my head
and make me feel a tat more greyer then a shady grade of blue.
It's not easy being smittend.
The sad tones of a violin tearing throught the boxes of my music-centre
feed the tears that I feel are beginning to well.
Quiet rivers run deep.
The night again has left me with an enstranged sense of loneliness
that takes hold of my heart and festers to a swell.
Silently I weep.
dance a sad dance on the sill of my window through which I look outside and think of you.
It's a dance intermittent.
Just like the many threads of thoughts of you that play through my head
and make me feel a tat more greyer then a shady grade of blue.
It's not easy being smittend.
The sad tones of a violin tearing throught the boxes of my music-centre
feed the tears that I feel are beginning to well.
Quiet rivers run deep.
The night again has left me with an enstranged sense of loneliness
that takes hold of my heart and festers to a swell.
Silently I weep.
Murder of Crows
1 Crow bad news
2 Crows myrth
3 Crows a wedding
4 Crows a birth
5 Crows for riches
6 Crows a thief
7 Crows a journey
8 Crows for grief
9 Crows a secret
10 Crows for sorrow
11 Crows for love
12 Crows good day tomorrow.
Past & Future
Where I hath come from
there hath been no guilt
where I shall go to
there shall be no guilt
there hath been no guilt
where I shall go to
there shall be no guilt
Not necessarily
Necessary necessities necessitate necessities necessary.
Necessarily necessitate necessary necessities necessitation of necessities necessary.
Therefore it is necessary that we necessitate necessary necessities necessary for necessitation of the necessary necessities.
Sorry for this sense-sensitive senseless sensing sentence.
It was just a coincidental coincidence that coincidentally by coincidence was coincidental.
Wisdom...
NED:
Onwetendheid is geen schande. Oninteresse well!
Een vraag is de eerste stap op de weg naar wijsheid.
GER:
Unwissenheit ist keine Schande. Uninteresse wohl!
Eine Frage ist der erste Schritt auf dem Weg zur Weisheit.
ENG:
Ignorance is no shame. Uninterest is!
A question is the first step on the road to wisdom.
Onwetendheid is geen schande. Oninteresse well!
Een vraag is de eerste stap op de weg naar wijsheid.
GER:
Unwissenheit ist keine Schande. Uninteresse wohl!
Eine Frage ist der erste Schritt auf dem Weg zur Weisheit.
ENG:
Ignorance is no shame. Uninterest is!
A question is the first step on the road to wisdom.
Sinn der Wahn
Wahnsinn ohne Wahn hat doch kein Sinn.
Das ist wie Wahnsinn ohne Sinn, nur Wahn.
Und der Sinn dieses Wahns wähnt sich dem Wahnsinn nah...
Das ist wie Wahnsinn ohne Sinn, nur Wahn.
Und der Sinn dieses Wahns wähnt sich dem Wahnsinn nah...
Free will.
Imagine that everybody could have free will.
Six billion people on this tiny planet doing what they want.
Scary thought...
Six billion people on this tiny planet doing what they want.
Scary thought...
Holy by whatever means?
If I kill a 'holy' cow, make a jacket out of the leather and wear it, am I then holy too?
Of course not!
Why then is history littered with people who claim greatness and holiness by association?
Of course not!
Why then is history littered with people who claim greatness and holiness by association?
WebSite
Well, started a little website. At the moment just for fun, though broader perspectives may arise in the future. Surely there are some plans...
Heavy burden
It is not the weight of the world that makes the job of Atlas such a heavy burden, it is all the sin and sorrow in it...
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