Over sacred stones I revel
to the place I once knew well
hidden well behind those hills there
in a green and open dell
There a lake lies, deep and placid
on the grounds of ancient lore
and I long for it's cool stillness
I found love here once before
Purify me in your waters
in your waters, oh so still
when I take a bathe within you
you will cleanse me, yes you will
I believe in your purgation
and the power of the earth
in wich you lie as safest harbour
from the perils of the dirt
Your cool waters give the clearness
that no air can bring to life
and your stinging coldness touches
when I jump headlong, and dive
In an unknown lucid manner
past assorted, pictures bold
Think of long forgotten longings
I can feel when you enfold
I perceive so uncapped feelings
feelings from the heart within
wounds once scarred are now torn open
but I dare to swim therein
Yet some images glare painful
a hidden truth does hurt the soul
as this clearness is sufficient
I return to shores more shoal
When I leave your purging waters
I seem as far as been before
Yet there's something new inside me
An affirmation to the core
I recovered all my features
all my allies stand with me
I have all that one can ask for
a secret deeper than the sea
I see heartstrings in the air now
no dirt scrambles present sight
I am glad for this assurance
And I return filled with delight
the idea of this lake since ever before in his books of that series, but the perception in Fatal Ravenant is just... bittersweet and breathtaking...
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Comments
-M
--
But he was unmoved, and cried: "If I am mad, it is mercy! May the gods pity the man who in his callousness can remain sane to the hideous end!"-HP Lovecraft
Tho I know it's a universal image somehow, too...
Got you interested in The Chronicles now???
--
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors! Oscar Wilde.
There's just one line I don't understand though, the last line of this verse:
Yet some images glare painful
a hidden truth does hurt the soul
as this clearness is sufficient
I return to shores more shoal
Can you explain it to me?
--
A heart at the end of its' tether
Swiftly descending into blame,
Pain lasts only a minute,
Resounds through generations forever;
The aftermath, it spells my name.
It was the greates imaginable "opening scene" for the book... and I just started to read
huh, I tried to describe the duality of the feeling of clearness Linden expieriences... it assures her plans, it sorts the scattered images, but it also brings those images painfully visible and sensealbe to the surface of the mind once again...
I'm trying to say: the truth is always healthy -in the end-, but might "sting" a bit at first...
--
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors! Oscar Wilde.
You really captured the essence of the Land there, and the lake of Glimmermere is probably the best example for what is going on there. The devotion of the Lords, the strength of the Earthpower, the secrecy of the Seven Circles of Wisdom and the purity of all that Foul could never touch.
Of course I only know Glimmermere from the first six books, but I can really say that you reflected well on what it's all about and why they are the greatest books ever written *g*
So, what's next? Tell me when you wrote your tribute to Andelain!
I hope there's some sort of represantation of Andelain in Fatal Revenant, I'm just a bit out of it, I nearly forgot about all aspects of Glimmermere, so I think to really feel Andelain again, I'd have to read Donaldson writing about it again...
But the book is really great thus far...
--
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors! Oscar Wilde.
--
A heart at the end of its' tether
Swiftly descending into blame,
Pain lasts only a minute,
Resounds through generations forever;
The aftermath, it spells my name.
I know some of Donaldson's work, but not what inspired this, and all I can wonder is if there is as much beauty in his book as in your poem.
"In an unknown lucid manner
past assorted, pictures bold
Think of long forgotten longings
I can feel when you enfold"
These feelings you describe so powerfully throughout the poem, they get me in a near trance-state for wish of feeling them through and through, of experiencing the place that inspired them...
--
"The function of the artist is the mystification of our world" - Joseph Campbell
about the trance: Finally I had this feeling again, that I love so much, and described once in "White Eyes When I Write", that I, next morning, almost thought of it as if someone else wrote it, or myself in my dreams, sort of, I was so proud of it, I
@ beauty in this book: Oh yes!!! There is! I wanted to write something about Andelain, it's another place in the Land where the Earthpower is sort of more tangible than in "normal" places, but compared to this lake, it's a wide plain landscape, with soft hills, and green meadows, with bushes and forests, so it's actually a place where great magic powers rule, and important things transpired there... I love this word, Donaldson uses it very often
But until now, I felt like couldn't "match" that beauty, but... I'm gettin ready
So thanks again, and for the
--
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors! Oscar Wilde.
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