Hun vaagner paa Skyggefulde Stier
I Skogens dybe gronne Kammer
Da hvidsker een Stemme paanye
Bag rankedeckede Stammer
Stemmen:
"Kom, om du vil! Kom I Morcket!
Mit sorte die skald vinde dig!
Mit blode Haar skald binde dig!"
(Saa dragende, sugende Ord...)
Pigen:
"O sode Rost, hvi vecker du
Min hemmelige Smerte nu
I disse stille Lunde?"
Stemmen:
"Tos, hvad venter du her at vinde?
Folg mig I Dalen need...
Hvorledes kand du faae aff Minde
Voor Lycke, voor Hiemmefred?"
Pigen:
"Eg forstaar ikkje - eg er saa rar...
O Vandringsmand I een forbandet Nat
Troe ey at hans Had dig vild skaane
Hans Rov vild ey vaere nogen anden
End dig -
Der vild skielve I hans ver
I uselt Haab om at Huus er ner
End dig -
Hvis Blod skald blifve hans sterke Viin
Oc Siel, hans hellige Troft
Faafengt han lader dig gyde
Ut dit Blod I Smertens Sin
Saa du som dod ey Sofnloest kand
Fortelde Frender: "Ulven er ham!"
Som Offer for Beistets Krav
Dit Blod vild rende koldt som Becl I Grav
Gud er ey her, men Doden ner
Oc hvert Secund som her
Er undt dig -
Skimrer I et dobbelt Skier
Aff baade Liiv & Dod
Rasende lader han Bliket binde
[Instrumental]
Nu har han ey meer sin Drackt
Saa rod som Viin & Blod
Fro Viin & Blod vaer paa hans Haand
Ved Sengen der han stood
Hos Liiget aff sin elskede
I blinde går jeg
Redd meg, ikke
La natten føre meg
Bestandig
[Instrumental]
Kan du mer enn ditt Fader Vår
Kaster du ikke skygge
Ja, da har du lovet bort din sjel
og vil tilbe
Som ser (whispered)
Som ser på deg
Har du synen
Kan du se at sola
Ulvsblakk
Har du synen
Kan du se at
Ulvsblakk
Ulvsblakk
Tida
Stemmen har Djevelen
Hahahhaha
Ulvsblakk er med
English Translations:
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
Science - The new aristocracy
Progress - The world is on the march
Why shouldn't it turn too?
It's the vision of numbers.
We are moving towards the Spirit.
Certainly deserted: It's the voice of the oracle, what I say.
Understand, and not knowing how to express myself without using hidden words.
I prefer to remain silent
(original excerpt from Arthur Rimbaud's "Bad Blood")
Science! The new nobility! Progress. The world progresses!
Why shouldn't it turn as well?
It's the vision of numbers. We advance towards the Spirit.
It's quite certain: it's oracular, what I say.
Da Trolddomen bleff heved - & need
Paa Jorden han sveved: Da som nu
Vaer Jaget ved at lefve, ved at aande,
Ved hver Bevegelse saa stoor at nesten
Dend vaer Smerte
Medens han gik omkring
Blandt Mennisker, vaer han skuffed forst:
I Liivets ydre vaer der intet Skifte
Lig det han hafvde folt I Ulvens Liiv
De treller under ham
Med at troskyldig Sind
Fryckter ham,
Een Krafft aff sand Natur,
Som Sanser uden Selfbedrag
Han gliider useet blandt dem, streifer I sit Jag
Lig Kveldens Farver, Nattens Aandedrag
For ingen Guderost hafver nogensinde
Git Mennisket Svar paa hvem han skiulede
Demon, Phantom & Varulv
Vaer kund Naffn paa det de aldrig kunde finde
End han -
I hans Hierteen Affgrund tung
Som det sorte Hav
Der eldsker sine Dyb
Der -
Sammenkroget
I Vintrens Bund
Felder han al deris Glede,
Liiv, Mod & Haab
Maanen, stiigende paanye,
Hilser ham fra en sunken Himmel
...Oc ved den lydende Midnattssalme
Som Fryckt I Natten vever
I dende Netters Nat
Der hun hafvde besettende Glod,
Bar bleege Stjerner I sit Skiod,
Hylder han hende med een Sang
Dende Lidenskabens Hymne
Vidner om det Baand
Som nu invelder
Natten in hand Aand
Nur Stjernerne varsler Grye
Mod to-hornet Solvmaanenye
Oc Soelen stiiger frem
Lig een Flamme, skier & reen
Som fra Faedres Offerbaal -
Ustyrlig er da hans Sind!
Skienk kam saa nyt Lius aff dit Skin,
Du, Satans Soel,
Saa han kand jage tol Bestandighed
Regiere, I kold,
[Instrumental]
Ulvens Billeder hafver eengang
Til Hex & Diefvels Stolthed tienet -
Om Gudstroe vidnet, morck men micktig -
Ja med Grenser viide som dend Verden dend ln ode
Satan skabede det som for deris Bilk
Blifver ofverjordisk - Han er slik,
Een Mand I Ulveham
Self Vinden er een Tiener I hans Haand
Oc Eevigheden - hans gaadefulde Aand
Paa ham een Stoorhed som een Krone Pan fordum bar
Han hungrer giennem Eevighed -
Sinnker om han grimsort
Een Tragoedie kund for dend som veed
Han tager sig frem baade Nat & Dag
I et eevig, dodstrett Jag
...Oc dend stoore, tridste Eensomhed
Vild ofve giengierd for dend tabte Kiaerlighed -
Snacket blandt Folck vaer til Bestandighed
Om Fuldmaanens Vee & Grue
Naar det klagede op mod hendes Skiaer
Fra Vintrens kolde Eensomhed
Da frycktede de at Vargen vaer ner
Vakt vaer dends gamle Mayestet
Der vaer Dogn da nogen meenede at hafve seet
I hendes Lius, som han splidder med dend
Skygge som han spreer,
Skyggen aff een ukiend Mackt
Der dend hylede mod sin Gud I infernaldsk Prackt
Dende Diefvels Herold, han herjede
Fra Kandt til Kandtmange aff Mandeet forsvandt
Paa dend hun lyser, han binderoc Helveds Ulv,
Han dreber, medens Afgrunden brager
Forbandelsen er her visseligen
Aff Diefvlen han bleff skiinked een Gave
Der ved Troldom favned han til Ulv
Ey vaer han linger een Guds Slave
For those
Who used to be
And now are
In the dark
Light a candle
And say their name
One last time
Let them go
We will follow
When time comes
To pray for life
To begin again
To eternity
A flower will open
Is the light of the light
Monumental
Or something?
White on white
Is a vampire
In the mirror
Eternal?
Like hell
We are
All dressed in black
We dug our own graves
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
[Instrumental]
Ikke bør den love å vandre i mørket
som ikke har sett natten
The shadows
Shadows of the dead
In the silence
Silence...
In the night
Close your eyes
And see the stars
The shadows...
The shadows and tremors
Operator
Call the police
Radio paranoia
All is over
Under the skies
Nothing is working
For god's sake
Can you help me?
We are alone
Over and out
Of control
The dead bodies
The world white
Interrupting
Truth is a hospital
Please be patient
De entede Tosens Hiemkomst
Hun vaer I morck Skog faren vild
Sneens Tepper hafde bredet sig hen
Paa Stien hiem - hendes eeneste Ven
Om hun bare kunde
Folge Stiernernes Baner
Ey hun skulde vildfare
Blandt disse morcke Graner
Skogens morcke Arme forbarmede sig ofver dend fremmede Giest
Giorde hende vaer I siine inderste Tankers Veemod
At I Bergekongens Kammer torstes efter Christenblod
De Underjordiske:
"Det nermer sig stille: Een sorgeklest Pige
Sidder derinde med foldede Hender
Hun sender een Bon til det himmeldske Rige"
Ofver hendes Hode
Det drybber fra Qviist
Draabe for Draabe some Blodet
Fra Kroppen til Jesu Christ
Pigen:
"Aa, eismal I ein uggin Skog
Eg kjenn at I Kveld
(plates 22-24)
Once I saw a Devil in a flame of fire. Who arose before an angel that sat
on a cloud, and the devil utter'd these words: 'The worship of God is:
honouring His gifts in other men. Each according to his genius, and loving
the greatest men best: those who envy or caluminate great men hate God;
for there is no other God, ' The angel hearing this became almost blue,
but mastering himself grew yellow.& at last white, pink,& smiling, and
then replied: 'Thou idolater, is not God one? & Is not He visible in
Jesus Christ? And has not Jesus Christ given his sanction to the law of
ten commandments, and are not all other men fools, sinners & nothings? '
The devil answer'd: 'Bray a fool in a mother with wheat. Yet shall not his
folly be beaten out of him; if Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought
to love him in the greatest degree; now hear how He has given His sanction
to the law of ten commandments: did He not mock at the Sabbath, and so
mock the sabbath's god? Murder those who were murdered because of Him?
Turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery? Steal the labour of
others to support him? Bear false witness when He omitted making a defence
before Pilate? Covet when He pray'd for His disciples, and when He bid
them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge
them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten
commandments. Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from
rules! When He had so spoken, I beheld the angel who stretched out his
arms, embracing the flame of fire & he was consumed and arose as Elijah.
Note: this angel who is now become a devil, is my particular friend; we
often read the bible together in its infernal or diabolical sense which
the world shall have if they behave well. I have also the bible of hell,
which the world shall have whether they will or no. One law for the lion &
Ëœstenfor Sol og vestenfor Mne
Dit kommer du sent eller aldri
Til Verdens Ende brer det
[repeated]
(plates 17-20)
An angel came to me and said: 'O pitiable foolish young man! O horrible! O
dreadful state! Consider the hot burning dungeon thou art preparing for
thyself to all eternity, to which thou art going in such career. 'I said:
'Perhaps you will be willing to shew me my eternal lot & we will
contemplate together upon it and see whether your lot or mine is most
desirable. ' So he took me thro' a stable & thro' a church & down into the
church vault. At the end of which was a mill: thro' the mill we went, and
came to a cave: down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a
void boundless as a nether sky appear'd beneath us.& we held by the roots
of trees and hung over this immensity; but I said: 'If you please we will
commit ourselves to this void, and see whether providence is here also: if
you will not, I will? ' But he answered: 'Do not presume, o young-man, but
as we here remain, behold thy lot which will soon appear when the darkness
passes away. ' So I remain'd with him, sitting in a twisted root of an
oak; he was suspended in a fungus, which hung with the head downward into
the deep. By degrees we beheld the infinite abyss, fiery as the smoke of a
burning city; beneath us, at an immense distance, was the sun, black but
shinning; round it were fiery tracks on which revolv'd vast spiders,
crawling after their prey, which flew, or rather swum, in the infinite
deep, in the most terrific shapes of animals sprung from corruption;& the
air was full of them,& seem'd composed of them: these are devils, and are
called powers of the air. I now asked my companion which was my eternal
lot? He said: 'Between the black & white spiders' but now, from between
the black & white spiders, a cloud and fire burst and rolled thro' the
deep. Black'ning all beneath, so that the nether deep grew black as a
sea,& rolled with a terrible noise; beneath us was nothing now to be seen
but a black tempest, till looking east between the cloudes & waves, we saw
a cataract of blood mixed with fire, and not many stones' throw from us
appear'd and sunk again the scaly fold of a monstrous serpent; at last, to
the east, distant about three degrees, appear'd a fiery crest above the
waves; slowly it reared like a ridge of golden rocks, till we discover'd
two globes of crimson fire, from which the sea fled away in clouds of
smoke; and now we saw it was the head of Leviathan; his forehead was
divided into streaks of green & purple like those on a tyger's forehead:
soon we saw his mouth & red gills hung just above the raging foam, tinging
the black deep with beams of blood, advancing towards us with all the fury
of a spiritual existence. My friend the angel climb'd up from his station
into the mill; I remain'd alone;& then this appearance was no more, but I
found myself sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river by moonlight
hearing a harper, who sung to the harp;& his theme was: 'The man who never
alters his opinion is like standing water,& breeds reptiles of the mind. '
But I apose and sought for the mill,& there I found my angel, who,
surprised asked me how I escaped? I answer'd: 'All that we saw was owing
to your metaphysics; for when you ran away, I found myself on a bank by
moonlight hearing a harper. But now we have seen my eternal lot, shall I
shew you yours? ' He lugh'd at my proposal; but I by force suddenly caught
him in my arms,& flew westerly thro' the night, till we were elevated
above the earth's shadow; then I flung myself with him directly into the
body of the sun; here I clothed myself in white & taking in my hand
Swedenborg's volumes, sunk from the glorious clime, and passed all the
planets till we came to Saturn: here I staid to rest,& then leap'd into
the void between Saturn & fixed stars. 'Here', said I, 'Is your lot, in
this space, if space it may be call'd. ' Soon we saw the stable and the
church,& I took him to the altar and open'd the bible, and lo! It was a
deep pit, into which I descended, driving the angel before me; soon we saw
seven houses of brick; one we enter'd; in it were a number of monkeys,
baboons,& all of that species, chain'd by the middle, grinning and
snatching at one another, but witheld by the shortness of their chains:
however, I saw that they sometimes grew numerous; and then the weak were
caught by the strong, and with a grinning aspect, first coupled with,&
then devour'd, by plucking off first one limb and then another, till the
body was left a helpless trunk; this, after grinning & kissing it with
seeming fondness, they devour'd too; and here & there I saw one savourily
picking the flesh off of his own tail; as the stench terribly annoy'd us
both, we went into the mill,& in my hand brought the skeleton of a body,
which in the mill was Aristotele's analitycs. So the angel said: 'Thy
phantasy has imposed upon me,& thou oughtest to be ashamed. 'I answered:
'We impose on one another, & it is but lost time to converse with you
whose works are only analytics. ' Opposition is true friendship.
(plates 21-22)
I have always found that angels have the vanity to speak of
themselves as the only wise; this they do with a confident insolence
sprouting from systematic reasoning, Swedenborg boasts that what he writes
is new; Tho' it is only the contents or index of already publish'd books.
A man carried a monkey about for a shew,& because he was a little wiser
than the monkey, grew vain, and conciev'd himself as much wiser than seven
men. It is so with Swedenborg: He shews the folly of churches & exposes
hypocrites, till he imagines that all religious,& himself the single one
on earth that ever broke a net. Now hear a plain fact: Swedenborg has not
written one net truth, now hear another: he has written all the old
falsehoods. And now hear the reason. He conversed with angels who are all
religious & conversed not with devils who all hate religion. For he was
incapable thro' his conceited notions. Thus Swedenborg writings are a
recapitulation of all superficial opinions, and an analysis of the more
sublime but not further. Have now another plain fact. Any man of
mechanical talents may, from the writings of Paracelus or Jacob Behmen,
produce ten thousand volumes of equal value with Swedenborg's, and from
those of Dante or Shakespear an infinite number. But when he has done
this, let him not say that he knows better than his master, for he only
(plates 12-13)
The prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel dined with me, and I asked them how they
dared so roundly to assert that God spoke to them; and whatever they did
not think at the time that they would be so misunderstood,& so be the
cause of imposition. Isaiah answer'd: 'I saw no God, nor heard any, in a
finite organical perception; but my senses discover'd the infinite in
every thing, and as I was then persuaded,& remain confirm'd, that the
voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for
consequences, but wrote. ' Then I asked: 'Does a firm perswasion that a
thing is so, make it so? ' He replied: ' All poets believe that it does,&
in ages of imagination this firm perswasion removed mountains; but many
are not capable of a firm perswasion of any thing. ' Then Ezekiel said:
'The philosophy of the east taught the first principles of human
perception: some nations held one principle for the origin,& some
another; we Israel taught that the poetic genius (as you now call it) was
the first principle and all the others merely derivative, which was the
cause of our despising the priests & philosophers of other countries, and
prophecying that all gods would at last be proved to originate in ours &
to be tributaries of the poetic genius; it was this that our great poet
king David desired so fervently & invokes so pathetic'ly, saying this he
conquers enemies & governs kingdoms; and we so loved our God, that we
cursed in his name all the deities of surrounding nations and asserted
that they had rebelled; from this opinions the vulgar came to thin that
all nations would at last be subjected to the Jews. 'This' he said 'like
all firm perswasions, is come to pass; for all nations belive the Jews'
code and worship the Jews' God, and what the greater subjection can be? 'I
heard this with some wonder,& must confess my own convivtion. After dinner
I ask'd Isaiah to favour the world with his lost works; he said none of
equal value was lost. Ezekiel the same of his. I also asked Isaiah what
made him go naked and bare foot three years? He answer'd: 'The same that
made our friend Diogenes, the Grecian. 'I then asked Ezekiel why he eat
dung,& lay so long on his right & left side? He answer'd 'The desire of
raising other men into perception of the infinite: this the North American
tribes practise,& is he honest who resists his genius or conscience for
this sake of present ease or gratification? (plate 14) The ancient
tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six
thousand years is true, as I have heard from hell. For the Cherub with his
flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life, and
when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and
holy, whereas it now appears finite & corrupt. This will come to pass by
an improvement of sensual enjoyment, but first the notion that man has a
body distinct from his soul is to be expunged; this I shall do by printing
in the infernal method, by corrosives, which in hell are salutary and in
medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite
which was hid. If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would
appear to man as it is. Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he
Blinded By Blood
You are
From the heart
Of it all
The light
From the love
In the night
The sight
From the white
In the eye
Crying
From the inside
The fear
In the face
From the mother
The grace
The river
From the blood
Of the world
You become
From the two
The thousands
My little one
From the earth
[Instrumental]
Angels go - we
Merely stray, image of
A wandering deity, searching for
Wells or for work. They scale
Rungs of air, ascending
And descending - we are a little
Lower. The grass covers us.
But statues, here, they stand, simple as
Horizon. Statements,
Yes - but what they stand for
Is long fallen.
Angels of memory: they point
To the death of time, not
Themselves timeless, and without
Recall. Their
Strength is to stand
Still, afterglow
Of an old religion.
One can imagine them
Sentient - that is to say, we may
Attribute to stone-hardness, one after the
Other, our own five senses, until it spring
To life and
Breathe and sneeze and step
Down among us.
But in fact, they are
The opposite of perception: we
Bury our gaze in them. For all my
Sympathy, I
Suppose they see
Nothing at all, eyeless to indicate
Our calamity, breathless and graceful
Above the ruins they inspire.
I could close my eyes now and
Evade, maybe, the blind
Fear that their wings hold.
The visible body expresses our
Body as a whole, it's
Internal asymmetries, and also the broken
Symmetry we wander through.
With practice I might
Regard people and things - the field
Around me - as blots: objects
For fantasy, shadowy but
Legible. All these
Words have other meanings. A little
Written may be far too
Much to read.
A while and a while and a while, after a
While make something like forever.
From ontological bric-a-brac, and
Without knowing quite what they
Mean, I select my
Four ambassadors: my
Double, my shadow, my shining
Covering, my name.
The graven names are not their
Names, but ours.
Expectation, endlessly
Engraved, is a question
To beg. Blemishes on exposed
Surfaces - perpetual
Corrosion - enliven features
Fastened to the stone.
Expecting nothing without
Struggle, I come to expect nothing
But struggle.
The primal Adam, our
Archetype - light at his back, heavy
Substance below him - glanced
Down into uncertain depths, fell in
Love with and fell
Into his own shadow.
Legend or history: footprints
Of passing events. Lord
How our information
Increaseth.
I see only
A surface - complex enough, it's
Interruptions of
Deep blue - suggesting that the earth
Is hollow, stretched around
What must be all the rest.
My "world" is parsimoniuos - a few
Elements which
Combine, like tricks of light, to
Sketch the barest outline. But my
Void is lavish, breaking
It's frame, tempting me always to
Turn again, again, for each
Glimpse suggests more and more in some
Other, farther emptiness.
To reach empty space, think
Away each object - without destroying
It's position. Ghostly then, with
Contents gone, the
Vacuum will not, as you
Might expect, collapse, but
Hang there,
Vacant, waiting an inrush of
Reappointments seven times
Worse than anything you know, seven other dimensions
Curled into our three.
But time empties, on
Occasion, more quickly than
That. Breathe in our out. No
Motion moves.
Trees go down, random and
Planted, the
Way we think.
The sacrificial animal is
Consumed by fire, ascends in greasy
Smoke, an offering
To the sky. Earthly
Refuse assaults
Heaven, as we are contaminated by
Notions of eternity. It is as if
A love letter - or everything I
Have written - were to be
Torn up and the pieces
Scattered, in
Order to reach the beloved.
No entrance after
Sundown. Under how vast a
Night, what we call day.
What stands still is merely
Extended - what
Moves is in space.
Immobile figures, here in a
Race with death gloom about their
Heads like a dark nimbus.
Still, they do - while standing -
Go: they've a motion
Like the flow of water, like
Ice, only slower. Our
Time is a river, theirs
The glassy sea.
They drift, as
We do, in this garden so swank, so grandly
Indiscriminate. Frail
Wings, fingers too fragile. Their faces
Freckle, weathering.
Pure spirit, saith the Angelic
Doctor. But not these
Angels: pure visibility, hovering,
Lifting horror into the day,
To cancel and preserve it.
The worst death, worse
Than death, would be to die, leaving
Nothing unfinished.
Somewhere in my life, there
Must have been - buried now under
Long accumulation - some extreme
Joy which, never spoken, cannot
Be brought to mind. How else, in this
Unconscious city, could I have
Such a sense of dwelling?
I would
Raise... What's the opposite
Of Ebenezer?
Night, with it's crypt, it's
Cradlesong. Rage
For day's end: impatience,
Like a boat in the evening. Toward
The horizon, as
Down a sounding line. Barcarolle,
Funeral march.
How did we end
So far out
Past praying
And past recall
To believe in nothing
Is a faith in itself
A lighthouse
In the eye of the storm
The nightmare
Of the nightmare
To follow the signal
Of a ghost ship
Our names are
Written in water
The knowledge
Is all around us
We came here
The old man sings
In the face of fear
The circular mantra
Why are we here
The audience is blind
To what takes place
In the pillory
Life is a stage
The vertical lights of death
In codes of red and blue
Birds in black and white
And the drums of wwii
Tattooed in numbers
Genocide is suicide
We are our own enemy
And the last judgement
Our children are hurting
In the final performance
The newborn is still
Mount the high horse
And dogs will follow
The scent of innocence
The wars of the roses
Sounding the charge
Down in history
The hand that offers
The heart is unfaithful
Full of broken promise
And hidden in the hollow
A blood-red coat
White to the bone
Fit for a queen
And the cloven foot
A trophy animal
We drink and drink
A subtle poison
More in sorrow
Than in anger
Our skin is so thin
And left to love
The sentence we serve
Our masks discarded
The blind rage of youth
The black starry eyes
All animal passions
Covering up the truth
There is no deliverance
This is a history
Of pride and romance
Such an eerie fantasy
When you think about it
Sins of our fathers
Their land and nature
Amusement and abuse
In the old farm house
The good wishes
In black and white
Photos of ghosts
And the family tree
In a circle of fire
Traditions dance
Maidens to the altar
Of milk and honey
Slaughtered goats
Fucking in the woods
The blood runs deep
Langveysfra blifver hun iagttagen
Uine, mange Graablick
Medens Maanen tavst glider
Pigen:
"Eg merkje kalde uyne
Kva er eg vár - maa vere snar
For Trolldomskraft med Makt meg tar"
Uine holder hende endnu
Seer fra nysgierrig Fjernhed
Norsk Nat iiser
Naar Lyd lig hylende Varg setter
Torden ruller
(Angsten blusser)
Verden er Sneen - stille
Alleene hun aander
Hierteslag banker
Blodet iisner I Aarene
De Underjordiske:
"Sorrigens Kilde hviler
Paa de tornekledte Treer
Hun er saa vacker een Dyd
Hendes Drom Solspell indvier"
Paa disse hvide Kinder
Paa denne smiilforladte Mund
Taarerne I Elver strommer
(plate 4)
All bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following errors:
1. that man has two real existing principles: viz: a body & a soul
2. that energy call'd evil is alone from the body,& that reason,
call'd good, is alone from the soul.
3. that God will torment man in eternity for following his energies.
But following contraries to these are true:
1. man has no body distinct from his soul; for that call'd body is a portion
of soul discern'd by the five senses, the chief inlets of soul in this age.
2. energy is the only life and is from the body
and reason is the bound and outward circumference of energy.
3. energy is eternal delight.
(plates 5-6)
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be
restrained; and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs the
unwilling. And being restrain'd, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is
only the shadow of desire. The history of this is written in Paradise
Lost,& the governor or reason is call'd Messiah. and the original
Archangel, or possessor of the command of heavenly host, is call'd the
Devil or Satan, and his children are call'd Sin & Death. But in the book
of Job, Milton's Messiah is call'd Satan. For this history has been
adopted by both parties. It indeed appear'd to reason as if desire was
cast out, but the Devil's account is, that the Messiah fell & formed a
heaven of what He stole from the abyss. This is shewn in the gospel, where
He prays to the Father to send the comforter, or desire, that reason may
have ideas to build on, the Jehovah of the bible being no other than (the
Devil den). he who dwells in flaming fire, know that after Christ's
death, he became Jehovah. But in Milton, the father is destiny, the son, a
ratio of the five senses,& the holy-ghost, vacuum! Note: the reason
Milton wrote in ferrets when he wrote of angels & God. And at liberty when
of devils & hell, is because he was a true poet and of the Devil's party
(PLATES 22-24) Once I saw a Devil in a flame of fire. Who arose before an
angel that sat on a cloud, and the devil utter'd these words: 'The worship of
God is: honouring His gifts in other men. Each according to his genius, and
loving the greatest men best: those who envy or caluminate great men hate
God; for there is no other God,' The angel hearing this became almost blue,
but mastering himself grew yellow. & at last white, pink, & smiling, and then
replied: 'Thou idolater, is not God one? & Is not He visible in Jesus Christ?
And has not Jesus Christ given his sanction to the law of ten commandments,
and are not all other men fools, sinners & nothings?' The devil answer'd:
'Bray a fool in a mother with wheat. Yet shall not his folly be beaten out of
him; if Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love him in the
greatest degree; now hear how He has given His sanction to the law of ten
commandments: did He not mock at the Sabbath, and so mock the sabbath's god?
Murder those who were murdered because of Him? Turn away the law from the
woman taken in adultery? Steal the labour of others to support him? Bear false
witness when He omitted making a defence before Pilate? Covet when He pray'd
for His disciples, and when He bid them shake off the dust of their feet
against such as refused to lodge them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without
breaking these ten commandments. Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse,
not from rules! When He had so spoken, I beheld the angel who stretched out
his arms, embracing the flame of fire & he was consumed and arose as Elijah.
Note: this angel who is now become a devil, is my particular friend; we often
read the bible together in its infernal or diabolical sense which the world
shall have if they behave well. I have also the bible of hell, which the world
shall have whether they will or no. One law for the lion & ox is oppression.
(plates 25-27)
1. The eternal female groan'd! It was heard all over the earth.
2. Albion's coast is sick silent; the American meadows faint!
3. Shadows of prophecy shiver along by the lakes and the rivers
and mutter across the ocean: France, rend down thy dungeon;
4. Golden Spain burst the barriers of old Rome;
5. Cast thy keys, O Rome, into the deep falling, even to eternity down falling,
6. And weep [and bow thy reverend locks.]
7. In her trembling hands she took the new born terror, howling;
8. On those infinite mountains of light, now barr'd out by the Atlantic sea,
the new born fire stood before the starry king!
9. Flag'd with grey brow'd snows and thunderous visages, the jealous wings wav'd over the deep.
10. The speary hand burned aloft, unbuckled was the shield;
forth went the hand of jealousy among the flaming hair,
and hurl'd the new born wonder thro' the starry night.
11. The fire, the fire is falling!
12. Look up! Look up! O citizen of London, enlarge thy countenance:
O Jew. Leave counting gold! Return to thy oil and wine. O African!
Black African! (Go, winged thought, widen his forehead)
13. The fiery limbs, the flaming hair, shot like the sinking sun into the western sea.
14. Wak'd from his eternal sleep, the hoary element roaring fled away;
15. Down rush'd, beating his wings in vain, the jealous king; his grey brow'd councellors,
thunderous warriors, curl'd veterans, among helms, and shields,
and chariots, horses, elephants: banners, castles, slings, and rocks.
16. Falling, rushing, ruining! Buried in the ruins, on Urthona's dens;
17. All night beneath the ruins, then, their sullen flames faded,
emerge round the gloomy king.
18. With thunder and fire, leading his starry hosts thro' the waste
wilderness, he promulgates his ten commands, glancing his beamy eyelids
over the deep in dark dismay,
19. where the son of fire in his eastern cloud,
while the morning plumes her golden breast,
20. spurning the clouds written with curses, stamps the stony law to dust,
loosing the eternal horses from the dens of night, crying: empire is no more!
And now the lion & wolf shall cease.
Let the priests of the raven of dawn, no longer
in deadly black with hoarse note curse the sons of joy.
Nor his accepted brethren, whom, tyrant,
he calls free: lay the bound or build the roof.
Nor pale religious letchery call the virginity that wishes but acts not!
You fly, or rather float, drift
Through an enormous dark room
A room of noises
Endless shimmering glissandi
Crackling pizzicato
Coal black, turbulence holes of bass drones
But otherwise empty
No planets, no meteorites
If anything, perhaps fine dust clouds of exploded music
You float there, somewhere between pleasure and fear
In a piece of time you can't determine
You're everywhere but in the present
Hey you disappear further and further
Into these incalculable rooms
And your personality fades away
Your features evaporate, your body decomposes
And your last thought is that you have become a noise
A thin, nameless noise among all the others
Howling in the empty dark room
The Truth
It is the two
They turn the pages
Of the same book
It means nothing to them
The pages turned by the one
Is turned back by the other
It is the truth
They know it by heart
By the nothing inside it
It is nothing inside it
The book is the heart of them
Christmas
A god is born and others die. What is
Has neither come nor gone, but error moves.
Today we have exchanged eternities
And what is past no novelty improves.
Blind knowledge is working at useless ground
And crazy faith is living the dream of its liturgy
A new god is a word - or the mere sound
Nu bar han ey meer sin Drackt
Saa rød som Viin & Blod
For Viin & Blod vaer paa hans Haand
Ved sængen der han stood
Hos Liiget aff sin elskede
Uden Sorrig for det, som svandt
Han drager paa nye & farlig Færd
Hans eeneste Sorrig være at han intet fandt
Som vaer een Taare værdt
Til han Medynk saae
I hendes Øine, der alt Lius vaer tendt
Der al Glæde snart vaer endt
Slig een Pige hellig, vacker
Det brustne Blik flacker
Hun kiændte Haabet brast
Han viiger for hendes Blik
Med een smertelig Mystik
Fylder hende med Hiærtenskiær
Men hendes Ild ligger sort & død
Ondskab qvalte hver een Glød
Dend hviide Gloe, dend slukte han
Men dend ha'r skabt een mæcktig Brand
Aff Had & Elskov & tungsindigt Haab
Nyfødt bæres Maanen frem
Ofver det Sind som her bleff røfved
Aff dend mørcke,
Magi paa hende øfved
Med rædde Skrit. mod ham -
dybt berørt:
Hun:
"Du diefvlens Sendebud,
som bærer Fryckt fra Mand til Brud,
Du Menskehadets reene Styrkedrik,
Du næring for min Siæl, som dør;
Gaae ey bort, o Skygge, før
Ieg viiser Kiændsler som ieg hafvde Angst
Ulvens Billeder hafver eengang
Til Hex & Diefvels Stolthed tienet -
Om Gudstroe vidnet, mørck men mæcktig -
Ja med Grenser viide som den Verden dend lâ øde
Satan skabede det som for deris Blik
Blifver ofverjordisk - Han er slik,
Een Mand i Ulveham
Self Vinden er een Tiener i hans Haand
Oc Eevigheden - hans gaadefulde Aand
Paa ham een Stoorhed som een Krone Pan fordum bar
Han hungrer gjennem Eevighed -
Siunker om ham grim & sort
Een Tragoedie kund for dend som veed
Han tager sig frem baade Nat & Dag
I et eevig, dødstrett Jag
..Oc dend stoore, tridste Eensomhed
Vild øfve gjengjæld for dend tabte Kiærlighed -
De ventede tosens hiemkomst
Hun vaer i morck skog faren vild
Sneens tepper hafde bredet sig hen
Paa stien hiem - hendes eeneste ben
Om hun bare kunde
Folge stiernernes baner
Ey hun skulde vildfare
Blandt disse morcke grauer
Skogens morcke arme forvarmede sig ofver dend fremmede giaest
Giorde hende vaer i siine inderste tankers beemod
At i bergekongens kammer torstes efter christenblod
De underjordiske:
"Det naermer sig stille: Een sorgeklaedt pige
Sidder derinde med foldede haender
Hun sender een bon til det himmeldske rige"
Ofver hendes hode
Det drybber fra qviist
Draabe for drabbe som blodet
Fra kroppen til Jesu Christ
Pigen:
"Aa, eismal i ein uggin skog
Eg kjenn at i kveld
O Vandringsmand i een forbandet Nat
Troe ey at hans Had dig vil skaane
Hans Rov vild ey være nogen anden
End dig -
Deer vild Skiælve i hans vær
I uselt Haab om at Huus er nær
End dig -
Hvis Blod skald blifve hans stærke Viin
Oc siæl, hans hellige Trofé
Faafængt han lader dig gyde
Ud dit Blod i Smertens siø
Saa du som død ey Søfnløest kand
Fortælde Frænder: "Ulven er ham!"
Som Offer for Beistets Krav
Dit Blod vild rende koldt som Bæck i Grav
Gud er ey her, men Døden nær
Oc hvert Secund som her
Er undt dig -
Skimrer i et dobbelt Skiær
Aff baade Liiv & Død
Rasende lader han Bliket binde
Snacket blandt Folck vaer til Bestandighed
Om Fuldmaanens Vee & Grue
Naar det klagede op mod hendes Skiær
Fra Vintrens kolde Eensomhed
Da frycktede de at Vargen vaer nær
Vakt vaer dends gamle Mayestet
Der vaer Døgn da nogen meenede at hafve seet
I hendes Lius, som han splidder med dend
Skygge som han spreer,
Skyggen aff een ikjend Mackt
Der den hylede mod sin Gud i infernaldsk Prackt
Dende Diefvels Herold, han herjede
Fra Kandt til Kandt, & mange aff Mandeæt forsvandt
Paa dend hun lyser, han binder; oc Helveds Ulv,
Han dræber, medens Afgrunden brager
Forbandelsen er her visseligen
Aff Diefvlen han bleff skiænked een Gave
Der ved Trolddom favned ham til Ulv
Ey vaer han længer een Guds Slave
Hafvde Kierlighed lenkelagt
Dend utemmede Mackt?
Han glemmer det han legger dod
Ingen Minder stiiger fra Graven brat
Ingen Anger gliider giennem Sielens Nat
Med Ydmyghedens Taarer smigrede hun
Dend Guddom som hun hadete medens hun frycktede
Hendes Vesen, lig et Lam
Gik ham ey forbi
For hun hafde rort ved ham
fved sin Magi
Uagtet disse Siele tvende
Een hafvde at ende
Nye Smerte klinger frem aff gammel Klage
Tragoedie aff uaffbrudne Dage
Ukuelig, dend Torst
Hinsidigt, det Begier
Nu drev han yrmapgal
I sorthiertet Kval
Vintrens kulde
Snart tilfulde
- oc hans Lengsel
Mod een Vinternat
Havfde Kiærlighed lænkelagt
Den utnæmmede Mackt?
Han glemmer det han legger dødt
Ingen Minder stiiger fra Graven brat
Ingen Anger gliider giennem Siælens Nat
Med Ydmyghedens Taarer smigrede hun
Dend Guddom som hun hadede medens hun frycktede
Hendes Væsen, lig et Lam
Gijk ham ey forbi
For hun hafde rørt ved ham
Øfved sin Magi
Uagtet disse Siæle tvende
Een hafvde at ende
Nye Smerte klinger frem aff gammel Klage
Tragoedie aff uaffbrudne dage
Ukuelig, dend Tørst
Hinsidigt, det Begiær
Nu drev han yr & gal
I sorthiærtet Kval
Vintrens kulde
Snart tilfulde
- oc hans Længsel
Mod een Vinternat
I dende Nætters Nat
Der hun hafvde besættende Glød,
Bar bleege Stjerner i sit Skiød,
Hylder han hende med een Sang
Dende Lidenskabens Hymne
Vidner om det Baand
som nu Invælder
Natten i hans Aand
Naar Stjernene varsler Grye
Med to-hornet Sølvmaanenye
Oc Soelen stiiger frem
Lig een Flamme, skiær & reen
Som fra Fædres Offerbaal -
Ustyrlig er da hans Sind!
Skiænk ham saa nyt Lius aff dit Skin,
Du, Satans Soel,
saa han kand jage til Bestandighed
Regjære, i kold,
Uden Sorrig for det, som svandt
Han drager paa nyefarlig Ferd
Hans eeneste Sorrig vere at han intet fandt
Som vaer een Taare verdt
Til han Medynk saae
I hendes oine, der alt Lius vaer tendt
Der al Glede snart vaer endt
Slig een Pige hellig, vacker
Det brustne Blik flacker
Hun kiendte Haabet brast
Han viiger for bendes Blik
Med een smertelig Mystik
Fylder hende mod Hiertenskier
Med hendes Ild ligger sortdod
Ondskab qvalte hver een Glod
Dend hviide Gloe, dend slukte han
Men dend ha'r skabt een mecktig Brand
Aff Had & Elskov & tungindigt Haab
Nyfodt beres Maanen Frem
Ofver det Sind som her bleff rofved
Aff dend morcke,
Magi paa hende ofved
Med redde Skrit. mod ham -
Dybt berort:
"Du Diefvlens Sendebud,
som berer Fryckt fra Mand til Brud,
Du Menskehadets reene Styrkedrik,
Du nering for min Siel, som dor;
Gaae ey bort, o Skygge, for
Ieg viiser Kiendsler som ieg hafvde Angst
(plate 2)
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burden'd air;
hungry clouds swag on the deep, once meek, and in a perilous path,
the just man kept his course along the vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow, and on the barren heath
sing the honey bees, then the perilous path was planted:
and a riverland a spring on every cliff and tomb:
and on the bleached bones red clay brought forth.
Till the villain left the paths of ease, to walk in perilous paths,
and drive the just man into barren climes.
Now the sneaking serpent walks in mild humility,
and the just man rages in the wilds where lions roam.
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burden'd air;
hungry clouds swag on the deep.
(plate 3)
As a new heaven is begun,
and it is now thirty-three years since its advent:
the eternal hell revives.
And lo! Swedenborg is the angel sitting at the tomb:
his writings are the linen clothes folded up.
Now is the dominion of Edom,& the return of Adam into Paradise;
see Isaiah XXXIV & XXXV chap: without contraries is no progression.
Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy,
love and hate, are necessary to human existence.
From these contraries spring what the religious call good & evil.
Good is the passive that obeys reason.
Evil is the active springing from energy.
The family is gathering
In silent prayer
Before the bed
Where he is laid out
Beautiful in black
And closed eyes
Only a boy
And a brother
And a lover
And a son
His sudden
And violent death
Leaving us without words
And looking away
From the mother
And the father
Left alone to go through
A great grief forever
(plates 7-10)
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy, drive your cart and
your plow over the bones of the dead, the road of excess leads to the
palace of wisdom. Prudence is a rich ugly old maid courted by incapacity.
He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence. The cut worm forgives the
plow. Dip him in the river who loves water. A fool sees not the same tree
that a wise man sees. He whose face gives no light, shall never become a
star. Eternity is in love with the productions of time. The busy bee has
no time for sorrow. The hours of folly are measur'd by the clock; but of
wisdom, no clock can measure. All wholsom food is caught without a net or
a trap. Bring out number, weight & measure in a year of dearth. No bird
soars too high, if he soars with his own wings. A dead body revenges not
injuries. The most sublime act is to set another before you. If the fool
would persist in his folly, he would become wise. Folly is the cloke of
knavery. Shame is pride's cloke. Prisons are built with stones of law,
brothers with bricks of religion. The pride of the peacock is the glory of
God. The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. The wrath of the lion is
the wisdom of God. The nakedness of woman is the work of God. Excess of
sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps. The roaring of lions, the howling of
wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword, are
portions of eternity too great for the eye of man. The fox condemns the
trap, not himself. Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth. Let man wear the
feel of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep. The bird a nest, the
spider a web, man friendship. The selfish smiling fool,& the sullen,
frowning fool shall be thought wise, that they may be a rod. What is now
proved was only once imagin'd. The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbet
watch the roots; the lion the tyger, the horse, the elephant, watch the
fruits. The cistern contains: the fountain overflows. One thought fills
immensity, always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid
you. Every thing possible to be beliv'd is an image of truth. The eagle
never lost so much time, as when he submitted to learn of the crow. The
fox provides for himself, but God provides for the lion. Think in the
morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night. He who
has suffer'd you to impose on him knows you. As the plow follows words, so
God rewards prayers. The tygers of wrath are the wiser than the horses of
instruction. Expect poison from the standing water. You never know what is
enough unless you know what is more than enough. Listen to the fool's
reproach! It is a kingly title! The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the
mouth of water, the beard of earth. The weak in courage is strong in
cunning. The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow; nor the
lion, the horse, how he shall take his pray. The thankful receiver bears a
plentiful harvest. If others had not been foolish, we should be so. The
soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd. When thou seest an eagle, thou
seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head! As the caterpiller chooses
the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on. So the priest lays his curse on the
fairest joys. To create a little flower is the labour of ages. Damn
braces: bless relaxes. The best wine is the oldest, the best water the
newest. Prayers plow not! Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not! The head
sublime, the heart pathos, the genitals beauty, the hands & feet
proportion. As the air to bird or the sea to fish, so is contempt to the
contemptible. The crow wish'd every thing was black, the owl that every
thing was white. Exuberance is beauty. If the lion was advised by the fox,
he would be cunning. Improve (me) nt makes strait road; but the crooked
roads without improvement are roads of genius. Sooner murder an infant in
its cradle than nurse unacted desires. Where man is not, nature is barren.
Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be beliv'd.
Enough! Or too much.
(plate 11)
The ancient poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or geniuses.
Calling them by names and adoring them with the properties of woods,
rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and
numerous senses could perceive. And particulary they studied the genius of
each city & country, placing it under its mental deity; till a system was
formed, which some took advantage of,& enslav'd the vulgar by attempting
to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began
priesthood; choosing forms of worship from poetic tales. And it length
they pronounc'd that the gods had order'd such things. Thus men forgot
Da Trolddommen bleff hæved - & need
Paa Jorden han svæved: Da som nu
Vaer Jaget ved at lefve, ved at aande,
Ved hver Bevægelse saa stoor at næesten
dend vaer Smerte - Medens han gik omkring
Blandt Mennisker, vaer han skuffed først:
I Liivets ydre vaer der intent Skifte
Lig det han hafvde følt i Ulvens Liiv
De træller under ham
med et troskyldig Sind
Fryckter ham,
Een Krafft aff sand Natur,
Som Sanser uden Selfbedrag
Han gliider useet blandt dem, streifer i sit Jag
Lig Kvældens Farver, Nattens Aandedrag
For ingen Guderøst hafver nogensiden
Git Mennisket Svar paa hvem han skiulede
Dæmon, Phantom & Varulv
Vaer kund Naffn paa det de selv aldrig kunde finde
End han -
I hans Hiærte: Een affgrund tung
Som det sorte Hav
Der eldsker sine Dyb
Der -
Sammenkrøget
I Vintrens Bund
Fælder han al deris Glæde,
Liiv, Mod & Haab
Maanen, stiigende paanye,
Hilser ham fra en sunken Himmel
..Oc ved den lydende Midnatssalme
Som Fryckt i Natten væver
Pigen bad for sig
Det maatte ey hende hielpe
Oc med det een nye Pige de rofvede
Foer med hende som de vilde
Oc ey som de skulde
Til der, hvor Skyggernes Huus hun saae
Saa kolde oc evigblaae
Fjeldet tog hende ind
Til sit haarde Graabergkind
Igien herskede Natten dend sorte
Oc nu er hun borte...
Hun skriger med sidste Pust aff siin Stemme
Een Epoche vi aldrig vil glemme
- Een forstened Krop
...Maanen er borte
Ocsaa Stiernerne ere sluknede
Hu! det regner og det bles;
For langt nord I Fjellom
Djupt under Hellom
Sagte vender hun Hovedet halfft
Lyddende fjernt til Ord som bli'r talt
Et Sted under Bakken, om Hiertets Vee
Pigen:
"Sola gaar bak Aase ned
Skuggan' bli saa lange
Natte kjem snart atteved
Teke meg I Fange"
De Taaren dend fulgte hendes Savn
Een Lengsel hiem til siine
Hun vilde saa gierne hafve dem I siin Favn
Sorrigen sadte Rood I navnlos Piine
Hun graader
Hun falmer
Hun seer ey paa Nattesti
Hun falder I Sofn paa Moseseng
Oc aldting tier
Saa decker et Mulm
(plate 15)
I was in a printing house in hell & saw the method in which knowledge is
transmitted from generation to generation. In the first chamber was a
dragon-man, clearing away the rubbish from a cave's mouth; within, a
number of dragons were hollowing the cave. In the second chamber was a
viper folding round the rock & the cave, and others were adorning it
with gold, silver and precious stones. In the third chamber was an eagle
with wings and feathers of air: he caused the inside of the cave to be
infinite; around were numbers of eagle-like men, who built palaces in the
immense cliffs. In the fourth chamber were lions of flaming fire, raging
around & melting the metals into living fluids. In the fifth chamber were
unnam'd forms, which cast the metals into the expanse. There they receiv'd
by men who occupied the sixth chamber, and took the forms of book & were
arranged in libraries.
(plates 16-17)
The giants who formed this world
into its sensual existence and now seem to live in it in chains, are in
truth the causes of its life & the sources of all activity; but the chains
are the cunning of weak and tame minds which have power to resist energy,
according to the proverb, the weak in courage is strong in cunning. Thus
one portion of beings is the prolific, the other the devouring: to the
devourer it seems as if the producer was in his chains: but it is no so,
he only takes portions of existence and fancies that the whole. But the
prolific would cease to be prolific unless the devourer, as a sea received
the excess of his delights. Some will say: 'Is not God alone the prolific?
' I answer: 'God only acts & is, in existing beings or men'. These two
classes of men are always upon earth,& they should be enemies: whoever
tries to reconcile them seeks to destroy existence. Religion is an
endeavour to reconcile the two. Note: Jesus Christ did not wish to unite,
but to seperate them, as in the parable of sheep and goats!& He says: 'I
came not to send peace, but a sword. ' Messiah or Satan or tempter was
(plates 6-7)
As I was walking among the fires of hell, delighted with the enjoyment of
genius, which to angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some
of their proverbs: thinking that as the saying used in a nation mark its
character. So the proverbs of hell shew the nature of infernal wisdom
better than any description of buildings or garments. When I came home: on
the abyss of the five senses, where a flat sided steep frowns over the
present world, I saw a mighty Devil folded in black clouds, hovering on
the sides of rock, with corroding fires He wrote the following sentence
now perceived by the minds of men & read by them on earth: how do you know
bu ev'ry bird that cuts the airy way, is an immense world of delight,
The old man sings
In the face of fear
The circular mantra
Why are we here
The audience is blind
To what takes place
In the pillory
Life is a stage
The vertical lights of death
In codes of red and blue
Birds in black and white
And the drums of wwii
Tattooed in numbers
Genocide is suicide
We are our own enemy
And the last judgement
Our children are hurting
In the final performance
The newborn is still
Out of nothing
I understand
Who I am
I think
I have been here before
I know
What you have done
To the world
Your face
It is in your hands
Like everything
Crying
I want to know if you would go to magic hollow
Yes, come with me
Come up with me to magic hollow
Touch the stars as in a dream
Everything you touch is deemed
Magic, magic
Must make the time
Make it one time to what you are missing
Magic delight beyond your sights
Fantastic prisons
Lights and colors lingering
Spin them, touch, they are splintering
Magic, it's magic
My side is blessed
You have not guessed
So won't you follow
Follow through the dark
I hear the lark of magic hollow
Calling out a melody
Veiled within my memory
My name it means nothing
my fortune is less
My future is shrouded in dark wilderness
Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on
Everything I posessed - Now they are gone
Oh where can I go to and what can I do?
Nothing can please me only thoughts are of you
You just left when I begged you to stay
I've not stopped crying since you went away
The world is a lonely place - you're on your own
Guess I will go home - sit down and moan.
Crying and thinking is all that I do
Memories I have remind me of you
If it were within,
within our power
beyond the reach
of slavish pride,
to no-longer
harbour grievances
behind the mask's
opportunists facade,
we could welcome responsibility
like a long lost friend
and re-establish laughter
in the doll's house once again.
For time has imprisoned us
in the order of our years
in the discipline of our ways
and in the passing of momentary stillness
You can see our chaos in motion
our chaos in motion
We can see our chaos in motion
We hold each other
In the dead of night
And the end begins
When innocence dies
In their eyes
Asking us why
Must they die
And live
And love
And life goes on
After the sun sets
The time to sleep
Without dreams
Ghosts presence, ghost music in the radio at night,
when you can't sleep, in the line of shadows
around the glowing red eye.
Voices that talk and talk towards nothing,
so that nothing's hollow role shall not slide
in on the scene in the solitary theater.
And the voices laugh loud, so the candles flicker
and go out, without noticing how dark it becomes.
And he who records the voices of the spirits
of the dead. On the tape filled with buzz and
cosmic noise you can hear their remote voices
form German words; they say: Wir sind die Toten,
which is true, whoever they might be.
The total inaccessibility of silence, it shines in the
wallmirror when you've left, and disappears
You're taking a ride to the underworld
Where death lurks in dark corners
And trouble is never far away
Wild gangs rule by fear and prey on the weak
Lone killers haunt the highways
And dark forces move through the shadows
In this lowlife realm of freaks and psychos
Only the tough or the streetwise survive
And you might be big, but to stay big
You've got to keep moving, stay sharp and hit first
Enter a deadly future where no prisoners are taken
And the killing never stops
[plate 11]
the ancient poets animated all sensible objects with gods or geniuses.
calling them by names and adoring them with the properties of woods,
rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and
numerous senses could perceive. and particulary they studied the genius of
each city & country, placing it under its mental deity; till a system was
formed, which some took advantage of,& enslav'd the vulgar by attempting
to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began
priesthood; choosing forms of worship from poetic tales. and it length
they pronounc'd that the gods had order'd such things. thus men forgot
What's the meaning of this voyage?
To talk in a dream
So many bends and these years we've been together passed
And all this time she was tremendously excited
About everything she saw
Everything we had talked about
Every detail of every moment that had passed
Ready
I remember walking, one side of town to the other
Alone one night in January... or February
It's like in an old movie from some other land
It lasted for hours
Only streetlights
And the grating of gravel in pedestrian subways
I remember some trees which stood black and naked
Weather-beaten hollows of snow
With sparse lumps of ice,
Been scraped off by the wind alone
And on the stairs before I left
One of the girls had surprisingly given me a kiss
(Agnus dei
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Miserere eis.
Agunus dei
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Donna eis requiem.)
Do you remember what you said and did
a thousand years ago?
Where is yesterday?
Do you remember what you said and did
a thousand weeks ago?
Where is yesterday?
Yesterday in crannies or in nooks you will not find;
Yesterday in chronicles or books you will not find;
All you see of yesterday is shadows in your mind;
Shadows on the pavement but no bodies do you find.
Do you believe that snows of winters long ago return
again?
Where is yesterday?
A voice you knew a thousand years ago you can't
remember when?
Where is yesterday?
Here is only waiting for a day that went before
Here is only waiting for an answer at the door;
Here is only living without knowing why for sure.
[plates 16-17]
The giants who formed this world into its sensual
existence and now seem to live in it in chains,
are in truth the causes of its life & the sources of
all activity;
but the chains are the cunning of weak and tame minds
which have power to resist energy,
according to the proverb,
The weak in courage is strong in cunning.
Thus one portion of beings is the prolific,
the other the devouring:
to the devourer it seems as if the producer was in his
chains: but it is no so, he only takes portions of
existence and fancies that the whole.
But the prolific would cease to be prolific unless the
devourer, as a sea received the excess of his delights.
Some will say:
'Is not God alone the prolific?
'I answer:
'God only acts & is, in existing beings or men'.
These two classes of men are always upon earth,
& they should be enemies: whoever tries to reconcile
them seeks to destroy existence.
Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two.
Note: Jesus Christ did not wish to unite,
but to seperate them,
as in the parable of sheep and goats! & He says:
'I came not to send peace, but a sword.
'Messiah or Satan or tempter was formerly thought to be
Everybody's been burned before
Everybody knows the pain
Anyone in this place
Can tell you to your face
Why you shouldn't try to love someone
Everybody knows it never works
Everybody knows and me
I know that door that shuts
Just before you get to the dream
You see...
I know all too well
How to turn, how to run
How to hide behind
A bitter wall of blue
But you die inside
If you choose to hide
We fear the things
We do not understand
The powers
Of good
And evil
Of the world
The past
The future
The promises
The folly
Of those who died
For nothing
Leaving their wives
And their children
For love
The only thing
That makes us human
The past
The future
The promises
I want you
To tell me
Who you are
In your dreams
Who is there
And is it beautiful
Like music
Do you know
If it is a word
Is it love
Does it hurt
Deep inside
Like music
Can you hear it
Today I feel like pleasing you more than before
Today I know what I want to do but I don't know what for
To be living for you is all I want to do
To be loving you it'll all be there when my dreams come
true
Today you'll make me say that I somehow have changed
Today you'll look into my eyes, I'm just not the same
To be anymore than all I am would be a lie
I'm so full of love I could burst apart and start to cry
Today everything you want, I swear it all will come true
Today I realize how much I'm in love with you
With you standing here I could tell the world what it
means to love
To go on from here I can't use words, they don't say
enough
Please, please listen to me
It's taken so long to come true
And it's all for you
Love come quick
Love come in a hurry
There are thieves in the temple tonight
They don't care where they kick
Just as long as they hurt you
There are thieves in the temple tonight
Love if you're there come save me
From all this cold despair
I can hang when you're around
But I'll surely die
If you're not there
Love come quick
Love come in a hurry
There are thieves in the temple tonight
I feel like I'm looking for my soul
Like a poor man looking for gold
There are thieves in the temple tonight
Voices from the sky say rely on your best friend
to pull you through
But even if I wanted to
I couldn't really truely 'cause my only friend is you
There are thieves in the temple tonight
Kicking me in my heart, tearing me all apart
'Cause me and you could have been a work of art
Thieves in the temple
Baby don't you know I'm holding on
The best that I can
Love please help me be
The better man
Better than the thieves in the temple
In the temple tonight
Love come quick
Love come in a hurry
There are thieves in the temple tonight
Love if you're there come save me
From this cold cold despair
I can hang when you're around
But I'll surely die
If you're not there
Thieves in the temple
you said you loved me!
you said I was your friend!
you were supposed to take care of me!
Try my friend loving all the things we used to do I realize there was not very much to love But that's no reason to go on living in the past
Try my friend doing all the things we used to do If you could color me, it would be darkest blue Give me another chance I'll love you more than in the past
It's up to you to do the things I want you to Don't question me It's gotta be this way
The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell.
For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life, and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite, and holy whereas it now appears finite & corrupt.
This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment.
But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul, is to be expunged: this I shall do, by printing in the infernal method, by corrosives, which in Hell are salutary and medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid.
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite.
You are lost in the ocean of your dreams and what is real
but the blue green surface only covers what you feel
and the lighthouse that you find
casts a beam across your mind and there's your home
but don't you ever wonder could you travel in the dark
alone
You can sail by yourself but you're never on your own
You will search for the light in the way that you have
known
and the lighthouse on the shore
casts a beam into your door and there's your home
but don't you ever wonder could you travel in the dark
alone
When your eyes start to think of all the things that
can't be seen
you can stare into the darkness and discover what I mean
and the lighthouse that you see
casts a beam that shines on me and there's your home
but don't you ever wonder could you travel in the dark
Love, love, love...
These are a few of the things I find joy
Bracelets of fingers since I was a boy
Fly to the moon and I'll get there quite soon
If I wait awhile
Cradled in branches that stretched out their arms
I must wait awhile
Bending my mind as I pick up the flowers in May
Hearing the laughter that turns into tears every day
Fly to the moon on the curve of a spoon
I turn upside-down
Tumbling through leaves as I scatter the seeds
On an eiderdown
(Love, love, love...)
Fly to the moon and I'll get there quite soon
If I wait awhile
Daylight arrives with a turn of the skies
I must wait awhile
Clouds building castles, the wind comes and
Blows them away
Tears in the water makes circles for me
As I play
Fly to the moon on the curve of a spoon
I turn upside-down.
Tumbling through leaves as I scatter the seeds
On an eiderdown
(Love, love, love...)
These are a few of the things l find joy
loveless vessels
we vow
solo love
we see
love solve loss
else we see
love sow woe
selves we woo
we lose
losses we levee
we owe
we sell
loose vows
so we love
less well
so low
so level
[plates 5-6]
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak
enough to be restrained;
and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs
the unwilling.
And being restrain'd, it by degrees becomes passive,
till it is only the shadow of desire.
The history of this is written in Paradise Lost,
& the governor or reason is call'd Messiah.
And the original Archangel, or possessor of the command
of heavenly host,
Is call'd the Devil or Satan, and his children are
call'd Sin & Death.
But in the book of Job, Milton's Messiah is call'd
Satan.
For this history has been adopted by both parties.
It indeed appear'd to reason as if desire was
cast out,
but the Devil's account is, that the Messiah fell &
formed a heaven of what He stole from the abyss.
This is shewn in the gospel, where He prays to the
Father to send the comforter, or desire, that reason
have ideas to build on,
the Jehovah of the bible being no other than (the
Devil den).
He who dwells in flaming fire, know that after Christ's
death, he became Jehovah.
But in Milton, the father is destiny, the son, a
ratio of the five senses, & the holy-ghost, vacuum!
Note: the reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote
of angels & God.
And at liberty whenof devils & hell, is because he was
a true poet and of the Devil's party without knowing
Daddy's flown across the ocean,
Leaving just a memory,
The snapshot in the family album,
Daddy what else did you leave for me?
Dad, what you leave behind for me??
All in all it was just a brick in the wall,
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
I walked down to the sidewalk, the night was crying rain
I heard wandering thunder like a crash in someone's tin
I can tell from the lightning's flashing that the storm
would not refrain.
The wind blew through the treetops and I saw some
windowpane
I heard someone down in the alley a little voice called
out my name,
I saw the ghost of our wrecked romance it was lost in the
pouring rain.
Well I'm going back to the country
Up on the mountains up on the rising side
And if you should ever leave me
Send me a letter with some love inside
Where are you? Married? And in a good place?
I need to know to be satisfied.
I walked on through the darkness, the night still pouring
rain
The wind blew through the treetops and I saw some
windowpane
I saw the ghost of our wrecked romance, it was lost in
the pouring rain
One thing I have learned in my time in the skies and on
the ground
All the fires changed motivation, yet I burned to love
The sun is far away
It goes in circles
Someone dies
Someone lives
In pain
It is burning
Into the thin air
Of the nature
Of a culture
On the dark side
Under the moon
If ever you need me, baby
There's a number that you can phone
It's double six, five, four, three, two, one
Yeah I'll be there and I bet on my own
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
It's no use pretending, baby
I'm feeling the same way, too
So come on over to my place
There's so much that we can do
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
Someday we will overdo it
Someday we will go too far
I'll get drained of all my money
And I will even have to sell my car
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
I know that I must be crazy
But there's a number that you can phone
It's double six, five, four, three, two, one
Yeah I'll be there and I bet on my own
'Cause I know what you want
['Cause I know what you want]
'Cause I know what you want
Last night your shadow fell upon my lonely room
I touched your golden hair and tasted your perfume
Your eyes were filled with love the way they used to be
Your gentle hand reached out to comfort me
Then came the dawn
And you were gone
You were gone, gone, gone
I had too much to dream last night
Too much to dream
I'm not ready to face the light
I had too much to dream
Last night
Last night
The room was empty as I staggered from my bed
I could not bear the image racing through my head
You were so real that I could feel your eagerness
And when you raised your lips for me to kiss
Came the dawn
And you were gone
You were gone, gone, gone
[repeat chorus 2X]
Oh, too much to dream
Oh, too much to dream
Too much to dream last night
Oh, too much to dream
[plates 21-22]
I have always found that angels have the vanity to
speak of themselves as the only wise;
this they do with a confident insolence sprouting from
systematic reasoning,
Swedenborg boasts that what he writes is new;
Tho' it is only the contents or index of already
publish'd books.
A man carried a monkey about for a shew, & because he
was a little wiser than the monkey,
grew vain, and conciev'd himself as much wiser
than seven men.
It is so with Swedenborg:
He shews the folly of churches & exposes hypocrites,
till he imagines that all religious,
& himself the single one on earth
that ever broke a net.
Now hear a plain fact:
Swedenborg has not written one net truth,
now hear another:
he has written all the old falsehoods.
And now hear the reason.
He conversed with angels
who are all religious
& conversed not with devils who all hate religion.
For he was incapable thro' his conceited notions.
Thus Swedenborg writings are a recapitulation of all
superficial opinions,
and an analysis of the more sublime but not further.
Have now another plain fact.
Any man of mechanical talents may,
from the writings of Paracelus or Jacob Behmen,
produce ten thousand volumes of equal value with
Swedenborg's,
and from those of Dante or Shakespear
an infinite number.
But when he has done this,
let him not say that he knows better than his master,
Well, it's a strange way
The way you look at me
And it's a hard time
Time you been givin' me
Come on and open up
Open up to me
So you can realize
That I could set you free
Strange ways, twisted days
Strange ways, twisted days
Well, it's a strange place
That you've been livin' in
And it's a strange line
You've been deliverin'
I think I like it
But I'm not really sure
Don't wanna fight it
Just wanna feel some more
Strange ways, twisted days
Strange ways, twisted days
Strange ways, twisted days
You fly, or rather float, drift
Through an enormous dark room
A room of noises
Endless shimmering glissandi
Crackling pizzicato
Coal black, turbulence holes of bass drones
But otherwise empty
No planets, no meteorites
If anything, perhaps fine dust clouds of exploded music
You float there, somewhere between pleasure and fear
Nowhere - Catastrophe (x4)
In a piece of time you can't determine
You're everywhere but in the present
Hey you disappear further and further
Into these incalculable rooms
And your personality fades away
Your features evaporate, your body decomposes
And your last thought is that you have become a noise
A thin, nameless noise among all the others
Howling in the empty dark room
There is a circle
Around the cross
A flight of steps
Into the soil
A string of music
Hung from a willow
Over the wood
And the bones
Burning
In memoriam
Of missing person
An angel
A flight of ravens
Without contraries is no progression.
Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy,
love and hate, are necessary to human existence.
From these contraries spring what the religious call good & evil.
Good is the passive that obeys reason.
Evil is the active springing from energy.
Your Call
Who is here
To hold your hand
In the dark
Where no one
Answers the phone
Speaking of the dead
When the red light rings
Don't be alarmed
Someone is dying
With no one to talk to
Other than those carried
Down the corridors
Open in the end
End in the open
And the sun is
little bird in blue worlds
spinning things with wings
beating the sacred heart
running cold and scared
wanting warmer weather
to leave all winter behind
the cutting edge of the sword
in blood of the burning heart
nailed into unholy ground
and the skies going under
over paradise is offering
something to prevent nothing
little bird in white worlds
singing nothing to hear
without heed of the heart
It Is Not Sound
For the record
No one will understand
What it is all about
The dead name
Backwards
Amen
It just happened
A long time ago
33 years
Again and again and again
What is it all about
It is a promise
Of a lifetime
For The Love Of God
Love god harder
From behind the red
Flames of the dragon
With seven heads
Directing angels
To blow the horns
Going down faster
Than the light
Going down deeper
Than the dark
Blood of the god word
Spoken in tongues
That we may see the end
Of the babel tower
Fucking heaven
In The Red
Out of nature
Something bloody
A body
Put to life
For a moment
Ambulent
In the light
Of the dark
Ambrosia
In need
Of help
A heart
Taken away
In a moment
Ambulance
Hospital doors open
