| [ |
mood |
| |
 hot |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Does having 'Eleanor Rigby' stuck in my head count? |
] |
I was just poking around Hexebart's Well and happened upon this out-take from The Resurrectionists that I thought may interest the members of this community. This is one of Virgil's poems:
Sonnet: Oblivion
The night I saw the Pole Star fall, I thought
Of ballerinas, loops and graceful arcs
Darkly dropping into unknown seas,
Awash upon the boards of lonely barques.
My dreams were filled with seeking out its light,
The cooling fire which makes my troubles ease,
Its balm of knowledge, ancient and arcane,
That all my ever-questions might appease.
But in my search I found no waters clean,
Or angles bright of stars across the miles,
No -- only murky depths of weeded swamps,
Inhabited by loathsome crocodiles.
And as all mankind falls before my eyes,
Sepulchral cities from the marshes rise.
VIRGIL MARLEY (1771-1794)
(© Kim Wilkins 2001)
...
Also, since we're getting closer to the release of Rosa And The Veil Of Gold (formerly The Snow Witch), I thought I'd post the back cover blurb here too, just to whet a few appetites:
When an ancient bear made of gold is found walled up in a dilapidated St Petersburg bathhouse, three people are drawn into a journey along the frozen pathways of Russia's primitive and terrible mythology.
Researcher Daniel St Clare and his frosty colleague Em Hayward set out for Arkhangelsk to verify the age of the artifact, but in the deep of night they somehow part ways with the road and reality, and find themselves set adrift in a landscape stalked by revenants, seductive water spirits and the man-eating sorceress Baba Yaga. Lost and exhausted, they turn north in hopes that the Snow Witch, cruel and tragic queen of this mysterious land, will help them find home. Daniel's lost love, the wild and beautiful Rosa Kovalenka, knows the only way to save him is to learn the mysteries of omens and auguries from the haunted Chenchikov family. But their home, deep in the impenetrable forests which border the two worlds, is a shadowy tangle of grief, desire and treachery.
Only Papa Grigory, full of tales and riddles of times past, seems to have the knowledge they all need to survive. But can he be trusted to tell the truth? What horrors may be unleashed if the Snow Witch finally gets her hands on the golden bear she covets so desperately?
(© Kim Wilkins 2004)
|
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
kimwilkins
tired![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/syndicated.gif){kind=small}
irate
awake
happy
busy