THE UNICORN SONATA|
As dart to dash from cords, they're spanned too much,
As flash from cloulds, as iron-cramp from crutch -
The shadows by the blood awaken touch
The night and do the moon the even such.
The serpent Queen, she swims to water's edge,
The Virgio's fate, it ever will me catch -
The flavour of the cinnemon from match
Effuses, where the brand galls latest ledge.
And spring is gone, the bloom in field and wood,
The fiddle split, the flourish bursting stood
In masquerades of masks, if August could
The tiger fell in thornrich brake: you should!
The honey brews, its keepers just agree
In rounded moon, and nothing there to see,
But voices herald someone, caught or free,
Himself the game is weird and so the fee.
He knows, into a graveyard he breaks in,
Like past as child, to give away the skin
The mistress, at the moonshine-moss to win,
Her wine appears a drop of blood to thin.
He understands in subtle smart the band
Of air space and the arrow-opponent -
A living, skimped which one of mean time's end,
Will blow me ill, and gently hate-dissent?
And anyone pleads you, the act is done,
The snow-white swan from firmament is gone
To an altar as end of pain and fun,
If god lunacy so invites to run.
He spleeps so late in rose, which bordered black
With pestilence and flies the day-attack
Of end and of beginning, and his track
Noone will know, if gone is midnight's hack.
Maybe the art, the nature, tries to slouch?
The oath, abused and filled, is looking louche
As dart to dash from cords, they're spanned too much,
As flash from cloulds, as iron-cramp from crutch.
The night ascends from beech grove blue,
The path on shore it glimmers cold,
All things seem missed, miscarried too
In airs where snakes the sunshine hold.
You walk away where lifeblood knows:
You're deeply banned in the smallest ring
Just as mushroom's mycelium grows,
Defenseless for the marching king.
The cricket and the codger's scream,
They will not find a merry cloud
To forest's shade, to river's steam,
Your hike is drived by roundabout.
The golden stars, they do not count,
How often will you break the track,
In their rank is to be found
The night and yours: the self-attack.
ART OF WATERCOLOUR
Numinous lightness, attesting the old-Chinese saying,
Ever the softest will overwhelm hardest design.
Yonder cognizant the way is no ferreous laying,
It is the dream between catching and chattering shine.
Dabbing, manoeuvring in climes of away running rivers
Martens fine hair which vehement the forces must tame -
Stay as the third, where one halts and the other delivers,
Purity turns in the end opposition in shame.
Not calculable, but principles subordinated,
Light splits itself in progression of every glaze.
Spider in own web the demiurge thereby is cognated,
If in the mixing the will becomes natural haze.
If in the rule of the earth the Titan has to tarry,
Winner has knowledge where any disposal is gone,
Unmeant and hasty gesture and so even miscarry
Indicates paths in the garden where each has to run.
Dreams, convoluting itselves under any colouring,
Darkness and glow and whatever the paint manifests,
Cleanness and mixture in water placably are scouring
Soonest in later film blinks in the tight palimpsests.
Although the formers adulate desire with piedness,
First careful one of the paint-delineation shines through,
Visible cryptic like in the acorn-little slightness
Full is the god, bowing whispering tree tops a few.
All is beginning, there is no rollback, where the flowing
Flirts and conquers all the feeling and every hope,
Thinker are free, that encroachment's part is called going,
Lastly the artist the Gorgo with hands has to grope.
Whom fossilizing view cannot be able to frighten,
Whom only hard enough marmoreal stone-blocs are been,
Paths made from velvet his gentle arrival can brighten,
Where else the serpent is gliding as underworlds queen.
Lightly his line and for more bitter acts preparation,
Playfully he is advancing a statue in mind,
Fishing like life found in water the early temptation,
Yet before someone looks up at heaven behind.
Sudden the triumph at morning and hardly the beauty,
Over the skyline the sharpness of swords has to fight,
But in the water the brush is achieving the duty,
This is the goal, where the player the god in the light.
Mount knights, rigorous and strigent in style,
Full the gymnasium from force and defiance,
Temple of life, and the world gamble's while,
There are no quitters, no soddens at once.
Every's spite are the ship and the sea,
Where the merchants and the money misrule,
Changing and haggling as flush let to be
Race and ancestry a mixed-bleeding pool.
Hyperboreans, seeing hiking as pain,
Here are the highlands for orchards to nurse,
Natural battlement, sunshine and rain
Let you the paradise bloom at the earth.
Pride and frugalness are emblems of tribe,
Goodness means sword-hand an selfbuilded house,
Strangers and migrants the Spartanians gibe,
Free under gods and the selvesgiven laws.
Worldwide is feared the ephabian Hoplite,
Toughened and naked and a fruit-setting man,
If such substance will cut clay in a pit
Maybe a future Olympics again.
Where just the pride in the nudeness triumphs,
Pandora's box was not opened with haze,
Ages afar from the modern world's bumfs
Looks the Lakonian serendipity's base.
THE CASTLE OF RIVA DEL GARDA
The castle old at garden's lake
Where Ortnit, hero of Lombards,
Looks for a shrew, which Amor darts,
For knot and crown without mistake,
He follows long his mother's ring,
The golden one, through countrysides,
The courtly love the stones shall sing,
Fortune and sorrow in the Knights.
Theoderich built long before
The haughty walls at lagoon's strand,
The Staufers could not them distend
And they will try such fight no more,
But home cannot protect against
The risks, the lord of bloom and quest
Established as the first and mainst
Before the world had any guest.
The ring on finger, stone-adorned,
In wilderness directs the knight,
The times and towards, out of sight,
They cause his heart is hard and horned,
He meets a noble linden tree,
This one is grand for hundred men,
To sleep in dreamers memory
He drops where rooms the flowers win.
It can well be it was a dream,
The legend says the fog has gone,
Alberich, dwarven's lordly one,
Scans long then he will clearly seem
He is forefather, slave of ring,
His magic serves the proudest son,
In each defiance and every thing,
If never ringless goes the run.
The gentries are oblique nearby,
In Montabur has pagen prince
A daughter, young that the she begins
To blossom when her smiling shy,
The dwarf brings from mountain's cave
The sword named rose, armour agleam,
Therewith at now the son can pave
The honour and the glory dream.
The navy leaves Messina's port
To Suders in a rapid flight,
His uncle in the Norman's fight
The saviour tries to hold the fort,
At goal they see a ring of skulls,
The adverisers - hangman's prey:
Around your corpse will swarm the gulls
Or sword and armour let you stay.
A coat makes unseen spying dwarf
By night he enters battlements,
The heath gods and caskets of gents
And catapults he casts to barf,
The princess sends he compliments,
He shows an animation where
The duke give famous champions dents,
So that the love is grappling her.
They flees, an army dogs the leave,
In battle then the father self
Imprisoned is by Ortnit's elf,
Then Ortnit wants no daughter's grief,
The peace some presents send them home,
A lindworm's egg amongst the gifts,
There do not notice duke and gnome,
How fiend a huge destiny shifts.
In Trento in a cave puts forth
The saurian feeding deer and swine,
Each animal and bush and pine
Some villages too are hunger's worth
The horror grows, the country moans
The dragon eats the Christian childs,
Not longer are there Ortnit's owns
The meadows and the forest guilds.
The woman weeps, a suicide
Must be to fight the monster's bank,
There is no honour and no rank
To find for knight who tries to beat,
The caudal breakes the crag, the wall,
The fire-breath its faster turned
As you the horse, what's grand and small
Decays in flames so black and burnt.
It has to be, he says, if drive
Does find no win in this campaign,
So will be sent a man this lane
To take revenge and win the wife.
In monster's brand he splendid switchs,
A hunk warped spiteful hits him sharp,
The projectile the right hand flitchs,
To ground floor fall the ring, the warp.
He knows the game is over just,
The life will go the path of ring,
And ready to risk anything,
A mouse in cat's district and dust,
He gives the saviour way and soul,
The dead was drubed by passion's act,
And Christ will be the knightman's goal
If under goes the left hand's pact.
He pounces on to the collar edge,
What jagged is with volcanic shards,
And dream and flame have even ledge,
Once more he eavesdrops to the bards,
He looks the castle and his wife,
She does not give a birth to heir
And she will find at end of life
No grave with him in flower's air.
By while when Ortnit fights and dies,
In God's destiny faraway
Where shadow of a treason lies
The heir to throne copes early day,
At Byzantine superior court
A libel speaks against the queen,
The son she has to sunlight brought
Shall be from other father's spleen.
The trusty Bechter from Meran
Gets the command to kill the child,
He would prefar the lord is mild,
Yon lurks and calls the footman drone,
So rapes the baby mother's sleep
The knight and puts spurs to one's horse,
He knows the trick is very cheap,
When he is out of castle-doors.
As mildness and allegiance fight,
His heart swings like a pendular,
He palms so carefull nursling's hair:
This ist no act for man and knight!
And at the lake, where lilies bloom,
Can go and play the child alone,
The wishs of lord is so a room,
If baby drowns, is fault his own.
The child will play the afternoon,
And hours later wolves come,
They snuffle and in eavning's fume
They do no sorrow none too soon,
The Bechter looks a godly sign,
He named the knave as wolf-ordained,
His wife get for her children's shrine
The boy who never should be pained.
The queen awakes in hurt and wrath,
A vehmgericht the Bechter dooms,
A guarantee-word nowhere looms,
Ordeal by battle is the path
To find the truth, the Baltram claims,
And all the knights agree to those,
There was an end intriguer's games,
He flees so fast like westwind blows.
Wolfdietrich sprouts to crest the grades,
That blood wolf unfolds total force,
Agains the dragon spurs the horse
The hero trough the mountain gates,
His sword was crashed in fervid fight,
The monster catchs the unarmed man,
But prisoner in burrow's night
Finds ring which wins against the ban.
The duchess at the garden's lake
Detects the ring of mom-in-law
God sent this man, she asked not how,
A second marriage her to make,
The herald posts the people clear,
That pride and honour came there back,
And peace is forwards allways here,
And past is everybody's lack.
Grandfathers never yield assent,
This one was shot for fatherland
O god forgive! that - displaced man,
The stomach cancer kills him then.
Grandfather Bergk was droped behind
In Russia, and in granny's mind
So loved, thatwhy how long time flies,
She had not for another eyes.
No grave has got, who missed in east,
Who such from life was gone at least,
However town saw right and blames,
To scratch in roll of honour names.
Four hundred tables at the wall,
At sunday in the church for all,
The teacher yet, not elsewise there,
With all the learners came to share.
If recently in church I came,
I was affright in smart and shame,
The role, rememb'ring grandad mine,
By rogue state was dumped decline.
My father - outraged in surprise,
That perfidy in clergy lies,
Thus take the lament and the mort:
They breaked away from heaven's Lord.
Since then my works are forest-trees,
Oft topic holds a paltry fleece,
Once in a while I indicate,
The subtle game will not abate.
The stuff dispatchs the other else,
It's foolish for Narciss at wells,
Because the hart must pulse to teach,
The matter is essence of speech.
The modern scantiness - a mock
Has never blood in fastest knock,
Who weaves the hush instead of use,
He has to announce nothing thus.
The richness lies in style and form,
If we shell reconstruct the norm,
But if the rule is in the time,
We appreciate a lucid rhyme.