L'Ineffable émoi... de ce qui existe
NATURE'S THEATRE Act I : The struggle O my great nature How I admire thee Winter's not as it was foreseen Cold disappeared, no sign from the white queen So how are you going to enravel me again ? This a struggle I behold From the very depths of my lair Lone privileged in my art Those trees' rectitude and solidity Facing the wind's immense might... Ohh! The sublime unveils my fears Of a hidden truth... The clarity of an error Nature has just spoken... Blow! blow! Will the blows thou strike Surpass the strenght of the oaks ? Harmoniously bent, as to show thee That they still stand unscared... Then rain came blending with disorder, crowned Flying, whirling under the northwind's blow As a foe wondering about the side Gently giving itself to the reigning squalls Its droplets tenderly broke Upon the great Oak's bark... Among this union of sights and sounds My spirit meditates, hark and observe The great oak suffers - facing the gusts The noble wind gets out of breath - with its strikes...
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025
NATURE'S THEATRE Acte II : The quietus My vision... apathetic Lost in the middle of tears This time, hell was far higher When the wind returns to the tomb And the rain, lone, succumbs I behold the trees, free anew In this temple forgetting the past's rage Ruined by a devastating passion Disfigured scene, wounds intuition And the trees mourn their sudden demise Pillars in their turn bowing to the harm Torn by the gusts of yore Weapons are unveiled, with a bloody destiny Memories from a skies' dreadful sublime impulse Those wintry evenings, as a veil falls night The cloudless sky lets glitter its first stars And engraving in me unforgettable memories Without triumph behind, nature withdraws... The rising moon seems to watch over the night Above mighty nature, in our infinite temple
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 25, 2025
UNREASONING BEAUTY Childhood erased, adolescence overwhelmed Far from adulthood, fleed by the old age... I am not reason I am un-reason In a maleficent game, devoid of morals An illogical yet vital game Your asceticism shapes my vices You, pale inquisitors of my nights ! I admire, I implore, I adore Free from good sense, I explore Before the pleasure of absence My borne sufferings dance Revealing, through my own flesh instincts The nihilism of Dawn... To cross this gulf for reconstruction... For I feel one desire To be left with my delirium To be left with my dreams To be vile, sickly and mad And even if we take our madness For the only reason of our conscience And even if from the heights of our hill We mix up tears and smiles in nonsense Take our word Our insanity Is beauty
Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 25, 2025