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In silver,

Reflected the illness of despair

This river,

A passage of worlds that heal wounds as they glare

I whisper,

Though insane words, my silence’s missing

I lie here

Blessing the life that I’ll live up here


My old name screams all you’ve left behind

I linger

Through all the times shining bright

[Green fields of peace

Ophelia, my old karma will find belonging

When will I not need to bleed?]


Would I be different than that?


A conquer has a price that rests when it turns red


I would not try to consume you

Authentic despair,

This pain I won’t bear to live for a thousand deaths

What calls it unfair,

Glories don’t last more than my secondary death

I dreamt of worlds concealing the fight strength of my longing breath

A secret that dwells in me till...

The Dark Valley

- by Georg Trakl -

In pines a migration of crows flutters away

And green evening fogs rise

And like in dream a sound of violins

And maids run to the dance in the inn.

One hears laughter and shouts of drunkards,

A shower goes through old yews.

In deathly pale window panes

The shadows of the dancers scurry past.

It smells of wine and thyme

And lonely calling resounds through the forest.

The beggars listen on the steps

And begin to pray senselessly.

A deer bleeds to death in the hazel bushes.

Dully gigantic tree arcades sway,

Overloaded by icy clouds.

Lovers rest embraced by the pond.

This Is War

How can you escalate until the bottom of yourself?

The weapon that you wear will bind you so well

Let you blind

Most isolated, arise from the lie

See through me

Bleed, sell out

Sold, a heavy weight

Loaded for nothing

But I can listen still you begging me

To stay and fight your despair

I can’t kill it while you chisel me

Dignus est odio

My God, it’s pouring blood

We don’t deserve but just love

Us filled up with gore

I recognize you no more

My God, it’s pouring blood

I don’t deserve but just love

Us filled up with gore

I recognize me no more

Torn for a commitment

Sound of victims

Oh you’ve grown out the worst of me

But I can’t believe, nor agree

That this insistence will bring any peace

Carry a heavy weapon that nobody believes

Warriors are not here to be approved, but to die as your heroes

So unfair…

We still want peace

We choose to die and we long to die in a war

But this war is only because of you


- by Georg Trakl -
- tanslated by José Luis Reina Palazón -

Un loco escribió tres signos en la playa,

ante él estaba una muchacha pálida.

Alto cantaba, cantaba la mar.

Ella en la mano un vaso llevaba

que hasta el mismo borde brillaba,

como sangre roja de pesar.

El sol se fue - sin palabra pronunciada,

el vaso tomó la mano alocada

y se lo bebió hasta vaciar.

Se fue la luz entonces de la mano pálida,

el viento borró tres signos en la playa -

Alto cantaba, cantaba la mar.


Et occurrent daemonia onocentauris,
Et pilosus clamabit alter ad alterum;
Ibi cubavit Lilith, et invenit sibi requiem.


Blossom humor

Flourish laughs to linger here

Rest within my chest

Dismay, welcome guest

The eternal return…

I carry the universe and I depend on the outside

Learn that you are already the answer

And finding yourself in the dark is seeing every sense that you have is a thankful witness of peace

“I am a forest and a night of dark trees”

Literally embracing me are branches which bleed

Everything I was alive I am more now

Being and not being I will perish forever

I am the truth, I’m a pale ghost

Waiting for freedom, waiting for me...

Lyrics: Arquivos
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