JahanattasBookofVerses
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[edit] Jahanatta's Book of Verses
Thrill to the mysteries promulgated by Audya ibn Edyahe, called Jahanatta, sort of a troubadour, sort of a priest!
[edit] A Hastily Written Verse on the Occasion of Winter
These are my youthful days
newborn into the ice
born into little space—ah,
between the dawn and dusk
These are the winter nights
this is the long march of
the crystal stars astride—astride
the blue-black trail of time
Oh—
Newborn into the ice
are all my rime-bound kin
between the dawn and dusk
between the dusk and dawn
And surely as the wind
has swept the seasons round—ah,
—eclipsed and brought to light
—and raised and driven down
—and stolen and returned
the treasures we have touched
tomorrow's dawn will raise us up to warmer days.
[edit] A Speedily Graven Note on the Matter of, I Don't Know, Wandering Around at Night in the Spring-Time or Something
Soft earth have I trod
the air was rich that night—ah,
the world was kind as my lover's chamber—far, ah, far
Shot with silver was the veil of sky—ah
the heaven was a silken cloth
alight with jewels of ice—ah, ice I longed to touch
What eye behind that veil awaited—ah,
what skin as cool as water?
My hand was dust and gnarléd roots—ah me,
and yet I saw it cross my eye, upstretched
soft earth have I trod
A star upon its dying course then split the veil
an hour and an age I stood
I saw there were no jewels
but just the light behind—
the veil was cast aside and I beheld the sun
[edit] A Discourse, Thrashed Out at the Very Last Minute Before It Was Due to Be Performed, on the Subject of Its Being Really Really Hot Even Though It Was, Like, September
Wait, ah wait, summer sky
wait, light of heaven,
vessel of fire—
these are the last of my middle days
Heavy is thy breath, o sun
"Wait, ah wait, son of dust,
man of the desert,
go not from me," you say
But doubt was in my middle days,
and night awaits, and night awaits
Night, ah night, lake of gems
night, and her comfort,
cold, and her comfort—
Winter will forget the last of my tiredness
For heavy is the middle-fire
and night awaits, and night awaits
the wind that blows between the trees awaits
But: wait, ah wait, summer sky
wait, light of heaven,
vessel of fire—
golden are the last of my middle days
[edit] A Giant-Ass Incant for a Life Spell
I mean seriously, dude, your servant invites you to consider how you'd feel lying there, counting to five minutes, thinking "When's this guy going to finish already?"
I came from labor sick at heart
my path a weary crease upon the earth
a woman in my shadow asked:
"What have you seen that marked your face with blood?"
"I've seen men broken on the wheel—
their hands were bound, their works were not their own
my son and father share a grave
this is my legacy: gray sand and death"
She drew her veil across my sight
I saw between her hands the web of life,
giving and taking all in turn
I knew that death and chains were false as ghosts
[edit] A Poem, Explicitly of Six Lines, Concerning How Awesome Winter Barbarian Shamanism Is
(Original flavor, pre-insertion of "ancestors'" and "tribal" at request to make things wicked obvious. In dactylic hexameter, the epic meter so Classical it hurts!)
They do not sing of the paths that their feet are tracing
Ours is the song and the dance in the warmth of their passing
Great were their deeds and their days, that the sun was burning
Ours is to know and to give what their hearts once found pleasing
Ours is the fire they built, and the hot mead flowing
Theirs is the voice on the wind, stone-strong and knowing
[edit] A Terrible Incantation, Composed by A Foreign Barbarian, Destined to Drive the Aneketh of Shadowfane to Strife and Sororicide
nooo NOOO, nooo nooo-nooo-nooo NOOO
NOOO NOOO, nooo-nooo-nooo NOOO
nooo NOOO, nooo NOOO, nooo NOOO, nooo-nooo-NOOO
NOOO NOOO NOOO NOOO, nooo NOOO nooo
[edit] A Miniature Lakeside Dirge for Zaviran
With silver wire has she threaded the lips of your mouth
With moon-white stones has she covered your eyes
Your mouth shall not speak of the path you find
Your eyes shall see no shape of this earth
Mirror of Heaven, even now I see his steps on the water
His self beneath, his image above
Eia, eia, eia
