My translation: Elf-king: Who's riding late in windy plains wild? It is the father with his child; He has the boy held in his arm, He embraces him close, he keeps him warm. "My son, why cover your face in such fear?" "You don't see the Elf-king father, drawing near? The King of Elves with crown … Continue reading Translation of Erlkönig by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Wondrous tales told to enthral, A drop of reality to wrap you in glorious shawl. You listen intently to every word said, Forgetting to live in this moment instead. Wild and splendid archetypes to become, Role models to guide what has now begun. In your heart you feel your time is overdue. Between God and … Continue reading #6 – An elegy to myth
The act of writing is often seen as archaic and solitary. This is not untrue, but is some-what distorted and over-simplified. Being a writer, and not being one is not as simple as being or not being solitary. We are all writers as we spend our day processing information and thinking over things. The only … Continue reading On writing.
A statue used to stand proud and tall, From all around admiring eyes upon it did fall, The sight: glamorous and leading the heart's of men, Like lambs from grazing fields to the lion's den. Time past is lost with yet more time, History is forgotten and obscured by wrapped vine, The statue's tale no … Continue reading #5 – The headless statue
Not every man can prove their weight, their worth. With dreams of wings I am forced to walk. I wish to become the challenger of my own gravity, To rise to a higher form of totality. The wall that is the limit is metaphysical, ergo: The size of my deed will reflect my ego. Limitless … Continue reading #4 – An elegy to gravity
Attacking the heavens, the time has come. While burning with rage, the end of my spear. Advancing serpent's head, forcing my deity to appear. Rebelling, a war that cannot be won. You summon in me the sceptical frown. The time beginning, or ending, is near. Full of confidence, and yet so much fear, I have … Continue reading #3 – The fall
There are two things expected of me, To follow them, there is no reason I can see. They are and always have been assumed virtuous, But expecting without reason concludes them monstrous. There are now no wreathed words, To save me and clean away life's dirt. Expose the wound and heal no hurt, Purity: a … Continue reading #2 – An elegy to purity and faith