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The word moon comes from the Latin luna. The Latin form closer LuxN luna lux, "light" whose root is leuk, Indo-European word meaning to be bright.
The Moon is very present in many mythologies and folk beliefs, and has often been associated with female deities. Thus, the Greek goddess Selene (Luna by the Romans) was associated with the Moon, before being supplanted by Artemis.
Artemis ...
(C) photographs Ivano Ghirardini
July 26, 2010 evening
Arthur Rimbaud - Poems
THE RAVENS
...
Lord, when the cold prairie, in the hamlets
When slaughtered
Long angelus
are silent on the nature Defleur,
Make descend from heaven
The big ones crows delicious.
Army eerie cries severe
Cold winds attack your nest! You
along the Yellow River,
On the road crosses the old,
On the ditches and holes,
Disperse, join now!
thousands, on the fields of France, Where to sleep
the dead the day before yesterday,
whirl, is not it, winter
For every passerby look back!
So be the crier of duty, our funeral
O blackbird!
But saints in heaven, above the oak mast
lost in the evening charmed
Leave warblers in May
For those at the bottom of the timber connects,
In the grass where you do can leak,
The defeat without a future.
1872.
The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore - while I was nodding his head, nearly napping suddenly there came a h ... eurt, like someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door - Only this and nothing more.
Ah! I distinctly remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore - Nameless for her here, no, never!
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before: so that, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating "It's some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; is this and nothing more. "
my soul grew stronger and more hesitation," Sir, "I said," or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; but the fact is I was napping and so gently you came knocking, and so faintly you came tapping, knock at the door of my room, that I scarce was sure I heard you. "- Here I opened wide the door: the darkness and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood doubting, wondering, fearing, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenore! "I whispered - and an echo murmured back the word" Lenore! - Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely, I say, surely that is something at my window lattice. So let's see what there is and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; is the wind and nothing more. "
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. He did not have the slightest reverence, he did not stop or hesitate a moment but, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, I say, you're sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name Night's Plutonian shore. "Quoth the Raven," Nevermore. "I marveled
hard to hear as clearly enunciated ungainly bird, Though its answer little meaning and little about, because we can not help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed of seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore. "
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. I do not uttered nothing more: he fluttered therefore not Pen - up I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me as my Hopes have flown before. Then the bird said "Nevermore. "
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken," Doubtless, "I said, what he utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed closely and closely followed till his songs one burden bore until the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden of "Never - nevermore. "The Raven
beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door, and the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy to , thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore. "
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned deep in my breast that and more, I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that devoured the lamplight, velvet violet devoured by the light of the lamp, She shall press, ah! never again.
The air seemed to me he became denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - he hath sent thee by these angels Respite - respite and Nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Drink! oh! drink this good Nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore! "Quoth the Raven," Nevermore! "
" Prophet, "said I,` thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore! is there balm in Gilead? - Tell me, I implore you. "Quoth the Raven," Nevermore! "
" Prophet, "said I," thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or demon! By that Heaven we scattered - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Eden, It shall clasp a saintly maiden whom the angels name Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore. "Quoth the Raven," Nevermore! "
" Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend, "I cried, when I stood up. "Back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken. Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door! "Quoth the Raven," Nevermore! "
And the Raven, never flitting, still - still sitting on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door, and his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, and the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on earth and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!
-----------------
Have you seen my friends in this picture, the black crow named is: "never again". Yes but how call the others. Come on, you'll guess the names? They slide on the cold December air, they glide over the fields, they scream. Yes, they are happy. They are not prophets of doom, not just volatile place in the world order. Would you play a game my Great Friends, a simple game, without taking ourselves seriously.
is Edgar Allan Poe who gave me this strange idea that this is,
in one of his stories he tells of a man who was placed on his forehead: "... no luck.
Are we together? Briefly, three or four at most, can they bind our fate here on earth. Is it a secret pact seen by the poet and his eagle eyes? I do not know. Except that the idea is fun. Describe how our fates with three or four words. Spells that seem chained and which may not be our true destiny. Come as you say you my friends? What do you wear it written on your forehead?
Is this is a fun game, just to ward off spells? How about your friends. What are they writing for?
Well, as I run this game, not to be taken seriously, as I said, I run my epitaph.
of Laurélou I would say "lion among wolves."
Kadi I would say "talent without numbers."
Enjoy my friends. Let's play it together, just to see.
want to Helen I would say: "Queen of independence"
Cathy: "thirst for life"
This is reminiscent of Indian names this story by Edgar Allan Poe. We all have an Indian name inscribed on our foreheads?
