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THE ROOTS OF THE SUN
BAPTIZED IN A GLACIAL LAKE
Icewind, frostwind in poverty-bound garb
A soundfilled refuge for the messenger of the wintry realm
He who was born under the North Star, in bitter cold
Under the sparkling shield of storm-torn plains of crust
Symbolic image of the elements,
A skull white shape of snow
With a gaze of northen lights whihch blazes wildly
And flashes in harmony with everything
Wise at heart and with shoulders like wide Alpine ranges,
The center of the adventure-giving landscape
With the Ice Age dragon Father Glacier by its side
Who lies calmly and breathes heavily
Baptized in a glacial lake,
Initiated into the utopia
With the delta-isle of the glacier world
Arched in the periphery
A wintry rite of coronation
With the wind as poet
Fetters this hermit
In its universality
A star chart is carved in his back
by the dragon's frost claws, that calmly and shyly
Tells about it origins in a strange song,
An unheard wisdom, an unwritten title page
The baptismal font, a hole in the surface of the glacier's crust
And the storm serves as an energetic psalm
Kneeling on frozen bed he is seen float,
On blocks chiselled by the sun, on the ore of water crystals
Baptized in a glacial lake,
Initiated into the utopia
With the delta-isle of the glacier world
Arched in the periphery
A wintry rite of coronation
With the wind as poet
Fetters this hermit
In its universality
Where Ice hulks grow every second and minute
The monarch of the Arctic Kingdom lies proud
In the end his barren realm seems to prevail
Over the fumbling revolt of the livid sun
THE PERFECTIONIST
From the den of Vinci the greatest polymath of all time was awoken
With a brush in the hand, but the palette in the hall of mind
Studied everything from the lift force of birds to the kinetic energy of water,
A torch bearer of the Renaissance's human ideals
Every brushstroke was weighed on golden scales,
Landscape after landscape was urge forth
But also the dissatisfaction in his critical mind
Was branched off from this stem
He tasted the thirst for knowledge which lay burried,
A drought which could not be quenched by the oceans
His thoughts grew high like pinnacles and towers,
In artistic anarchy,
In experimenting alchemy,
To rise with winged machinery
High over pinnacles and towers
Nature was Life's encyclopedia,
Its images proved his thesises
From mechanics to organic chemistry
The land in between? Brilliant synthesises!
Studies in art and architecture
Optics, geology and the whole family of botany
But the perfectionism eventually became a cage,
And he could not even complete a single portrait
For curiosity was his whole vision
And to find unexplored branches
To complete was to finish his progression,
And to join static stones
SPROUTS AND GERMINATES
A spring rain sails forth and spreads its water
Over the ground, as if lit by the flame of time
In these lands of yearning, drops of light has begun to plait
The web of summer which eagerly wants to return
The mystery of viability
Sprouts in the care of growing
Tamed by the earth's fertility,
A multitude is united in one chord
The mystery of viability
Breathes in stillness and storm
A cycle built towards eternity
Like the recreated form of burst drops
In a time when every seed is awoken for its journey
From their capsules, secret but free
Spread by the wind to tread sparse
Expanses, which they have come to set free
From wintry shape the world raises rich in nuances
And the bright greenery of spring first
There, rivers of melted snow sound like orchestras
And ease the unquenchable thirst of the Earth's crust
COSMOSAIC
From the reflexes of the mind
Magnificent halls and modest rooms are created
The small things shrink, the large things grow
Grow outside the Universe
Where seasons' scattered sprinkles of glitter
Are united in every star
For the cold of winter and the splendour of summer
Share the same core
Form the hand to a telescope
Aim it towards the dark web
Which serves as the enricher of imagination
And your soul is lifted towards the globe of the moon, also
If your mind is heavier than Earth itself
And rich from few nuances
It is drawn to the silvery river of the Milky Way,
Towards the cosmosaic of the heights
An opposite to the wrinkles of time itself
Whirls on the black ocean of the sky
And shines on rocks which are not daunted by their creases,
Inhabited by willow, moss and lichen
The billowing charisma of light waves
Lits all skies ablaze
Which hits the eye's prism
And takes me to promised lands
Form the hand to a telescope
Aim it towards the dark web
Which serves as the enricher of imagination
And your soul is lifted towards the globe of the moon, also
"If your mind is heavier than Earth itself"
THE TEMPLE OF IDEAS
A thought builds new patterns,
The Universe lies hidden in the thought
It opens closed gates and windows
And found its path in that which we had already forgotten
The previous though, which carried a history
Of activity of thinking
Awoken it shone with the halo of creation
But doomed to renew its singularity
It broke free, from the reins of its origin
And gave life to bygone dreams
An electric impulse which passed its exam:
To work beyond the physical body
For each and every conclusion
That leaves the house of ideas
A cosmos is created, a new section
Of thoughts and noise
Which then turns into new words,
An existance of its own
Words on a paper, on someone's table
Turns into a condensation of thoughts
Which drips into his life
And changes his incarnation
Then makes the foundation for new initiatives,
This is the evolution of a thought
And in every second gifted by Time
Its journeyman is widened
In its collective there become more, yet more
That rise towards the skies' covering
They burn shortly and fall away
When the task is completed
But can be awoken again from the castle of oblivion
If we urge them for a minute
Then they shine in full ornamentation,
In the brightest of colours
From the hall of the brain, a fresh sonata
Extols these actors.
These thoughts build new patterns,
The Universe lies hidden in the thought
It opens closed gates and windows
And found its path in that which we had already forgotten
THE MYSTERY OF NATURE
In a distant direction
The bright prisma augments its wave
A condensation which forms the stratification of nuances
It is the dialogue between the water and the ground
That speak up where the colours are refracted
Lo, the rainbow materialises
Drops of water become the drawbridge of cosmic castles
More distant than the realm of clouds, where the water is divided
With the light's refraction, a vertical bridge
Which forces my shadow to glow
In ghostly colours which in ancient belief
Made every soul freeze
The pure beings of spectral colours are formed
And flee towards a sky dressed in rain
Where the widening aura of the water is stormed
By the patterns of energy that create my entire view
And embodies all magical moments,
The essence of harmony and beauty
I can barely make out the invisible part below
Guided by centuries' own experience
Hail to you, seven-coloured dynasty
Who ease my anguish and set the energy of the soul free
TO BUILD A RUIN
Collapse is the state at all coordinates
When the curtains go up at the theatre of naivety
When Mother Earth's patience runs low,
When man suffocates her blossom
Then, the universe's enormous choir roars
And announces its fatal judgment
The hammer of ruin strikes with increasingly heavy blows
Like the one in the forge of cacophony
Where the smoke lies thick both night and day
As a gesture that we are forging the chain of ruin
Fire spews out its wild red light
And burns the heart of the land
Flames that dance over mortality's scene
Until all is burnt up and covered in blackness
A wide-streched desert creeps forth where once a glimmering sea billowed
The soul of the landscape is warped and cracked
Nature's grave is thus sculptured by human hands
Until the world is adorned by the garb of chaos
Every butterfly is grey, every fireplace is cold
And the shadows force the light away
Forests have begun to bleed, every crop is suffocated
And the cup of wisdom has been emptied
All meadows have lost their former splendour,
The strings of the harp of foolishness resound in this land
Where the star of lifelessness burns
With a cold light which we will never overcome
RAYS
Under the lamp of diligence she entered her scene
To make the mask of cursed elements fall
And break the spell over these radiation phenomenons
That live and work concealed
With the oars of toil on an unbroken ocean
Of the passivity of the world around
She sailed the mystic caravan of the materials
With the weather vane pointing towards invisible radioactivity
Her mind burned with fascination and undisguised passion
When the darkness was lit up by isolated radium
Yet these studies consumed like the utmost erosion
And the passion became a suffering in the cells' rooms
Structure, attribute and transformation
Are the words that echo in your life's work
Marie Curie; your spirit is free
From unfulfilled dreams
You took chemistry to radiology
In the currents of alpha particles
Marie Curie; your ambition
To refine the methods of the experiments
Created a completely new academy
And you became its guiding star and mother
FROM MATTER TO SPIRIT
"Transform yourselves to living Philosofical stones" - Dorneus
Exoteric was the method which turned into chemical branchings
At the surface the goal was to transform mercury to gold,
But the esoteric purpose: the care of the body and the soul
The home of symbolism,
Mother of psychologic analysis
Driven by an eager animism,
To find the dialysis of the animate things
Spirit and nature the promised state of entirety
Yet many has sought its treasure and lost their sanity
The happiness of eternity rests in circular distillation
Like Paracelsus' thought which Newton interpreted as an instruction
From matter to spirit, from the things' silent sphere
I follow the paths of the elements beyond: now and here
To find the secrets of the elements, in frisky reagent
In the wide crucible of chemistry and to behold the essence of the riddle
The evolution process of prima materia is lit
I arm myself against the master of projections
"Until the Mercurian serpent lies scarred and burned"
The tempter of illusions is lashed
My Work is fulfilled but soon the dream runs out
The recreation of the entirety must be kept awake
The tiny conjunction shall be awoken from its hiding places,
The sun of consciousness swallowed by the wingless dragon
From the vessels the serpent tried to escape
To darken my inner reconciliation
My spirit, that now shall ascend away and rise
From the dwelling of the logos principle
WHAT THE BREATH OF THE EVENING WIND WISPERS
