Tag: Helena Aguilar Mayans

Les Champs léthargiques II

La foule des vivants rit et suit sa folie, Tantôt pour son plaisir, tantôt pour son tourment ; Mais par les morts muets, par les morts qu’on oublie, Moi, rêveur, je me sens regardé fixement. […] Moi, c’est là que je vis ! — cueillant les roses blanches, Consolant les tombeaux délaissés trop longtemps, Je […]

Les Champs léthargiques I

La foule des vivants rit et suit sa folie, Tantôt pour son plaisir, tantôt pour son tourment ; Mais par les morts muets, par les morts qu’on oublie, Moi, rêveur, je me sens regardé fixement. […] Moi, c’est là que je vis ! — cueillant les roses blanches, Consolant les tombeaux délaissés trop longtemps, Je […]

You’d speak my name in tongues

You’d speak my name in tongues, you’d holler out in spades Oh, how I wish you could love me again Into the darkness my baby flies, Into the darkness I say goodbye – Kind Dude – Black Butterfly –

Pale, beyond Porch and Portal

Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; […] She waits for each and other, She waits for all men born; Forgets the earth her mother, The life of fruits and corn – Algernon Swinburne – The Garden of Proserpine –

The Empty House

See this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! […] “Secrets”, sighs the night-wind, “Vacancy is all I find; Every keyhole I have made Wails a summons, faint and sad, No voice ever answers me, Only vacancy.” […] – Walter de la Mare – The Empty House –  

I don’t want to run to no Hills

I don’t want to run to no hills I can’t seem to summon of the will To recall how to administer the sign I’ve built – without you – King Dude – Silver Crucifix –

Sorcellerie

Frau Gaubenslosher was strongly suspected of witchcraft. […] And it must be confessed appearances were against the Frau. In the first place, she lived quite alone in a forest. This was suspicious. – Ambrose Bierce – The fowl Witch –

A tyrant Spell has bound me

The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go. […] Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go. – Emily Brontë – The night is darkening around me –

The Gray turns Gold

There is a woodland witch who lies […] The dragon-flies, brass-bright and blue, Are signs she works her sorcery through; Weird, wizard characters she weaves Her spells with under forest leaves […] The fancies that she doth devise Take on the forms of butterflies […] Till, where the wood is very lone, Vague monotone meets […]

Mon pays, c’est l’hiver

My Country it is not a country, it’s Winter My Garden it is not a garden, it’s the Plain My Path it is not a path, it is the Snow My Country it is not a country, it’s Winter – Gilles Vigneault – Mon Pays, c’est l’Hiver –