Enter no.Q

Numbers.
What are numbers?
Darkness.
Numbers are your legacy?
Iron.
Red Stone.
Quick-lime.
Numbers.
Mother.

To the wise
and understanding readers

Unpainted leaves

I lost my wisdom in a burning silence
The shadows sing the future and the past,
The voices are a neverending cry
And everything becomes an eternal lie.
A drop of sorrow, then a drop of wine
To write your riddle on the falling leaves;
A shiver in your eyes, another glimmer
To taste the glowing pleasure of my dream.

Let me hear the voices flying against the wind,
Let me hear them lose their breath, and harmony.
Let the voices fly away
Let my illusions be dispersed again
Let me live my wasted years, without illusions.

The hourglass is falling from the sky
The grains of sand are as the words of wise
Blended with the shards of broken glass
A flight of eagles ending in the dark.
And now that my desires fly away
The clockwork running on my great dismay
The unpainted leaves are falling on the lawn
They sung my song, my fate, my crystal swan.

Let me hear the voices flying, against the wind,
Let me hear them lose their breath, and harmony.
Let the voices fly away
Let my illusions be dispersed again
Let me live my wasted years, without illusions.

Let me hear the blaring echo of my deceptions;
Let the future choose the way and retribution
Let the silence fly away
Let the betrayer kill my passion’s game
Let my dreams be born away, without illusions.

Let me hear the blaring echo of my deceptions;
Let the future choose the way and retribution
Let the silence fly away
Let the betrayer kill my passion’s game
Let my dreams be born away, without illusions.

Romantiquesque

Jag är.
Här är jag.
Vem är du?

I’m following your hands
Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands
Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands…
I need your hands
You want my hands

Jag är.
Här är jag.
Vem är du?

I’m following your hands
Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands
Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands…
I need your hands
You want my hands

Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands
Your hands are chasing me.
I’m following your hands

The dream of the whales

The secret of the whales is in the abyss,
Hidden from human persecution.
A living ship to cross the depth of darkness
The shades of blue, the falsity of Poseidon.

Black is my brother and the night my sister,
My solitude the womb, who is my mother?

A navigator in a cursed deepness
A cursed navigator in the deep.
A nomad in a blessed destination
A blessed nomad in the silent depth
Is an infinitesimal vibration
But in my mind it’s like a wide explosion.

Another wave, again, and then another one,
The rhyme of the oceans, soul of Terpsichore
Black is my brother and the night my sister,
My solitude the womb, who is my mother?
Who is my mother?

A navigator in a cursed deepness
A cursed navigator in the deep.
Is an infinitesimal vibration
But in my mind it’s like a wide explosion.

The secret of the whales is in the abyss,
Hidden from the human persecution.

Who is my mother?

The ship and the poet

The ship of lonely poets was lost into the falling rain.
With the wind of empty words blowing the sails.

We were so used to the silence of the poets
That this silence became the soul of darkness.
We were so deaf around the silent rhymes
That the rhymes were wither’d on the ground.
We were so deaf around the silent rhymes
That the rhymes were turned to wounds.

The ship of lonely poets was lost into the silent sea.
With the wind of lies blowing the dreams.
Nobody learned the voices of the poets
Because the poets are fools and liars.
Nobody sung these rude harsh-sounding rhymes
Because the rhymes were a caustic desert.
Nobody sought the ship lost in the desert
Because the desert is buried in the heart.

The ship of lonely poets was lost into the silent sea.
With the wind of empty words blowing the sails.
We were so used to the silence of the poets
That this silence became the soul of darkness.
Nobody learned the voices of the poets
Because the poets are fools and liars.
Nobody learned the voices of the poets
Because their lies reveal the hidden truth.

The black horizon of the monodist

Noises, and dark rules, my black horizons,
Scratching the wings of an innocent order
My soul, black tears on the face of the moon
Alone on the snow stairs between me and my doom.
The snowy crystals become blades in the heavens
Terror and pain for the monodist blood.
The falling drop is a red broken mirror,
The music appears as a black ant’s invasion.

The journey to east is just the beginning.
This is my dream, my desperate darkness.
The blessed comforter will accept my confusion
As a dead-drunk believer steals the minds of men.
The song of making is revealed to mankind,
The harmonic shine is a geometrical beauty.
Celestial movements for Jupiter’s swain.
The monodist sings the secret way of the darkness.

Full of sacred knowledge my great prophetess
Thy bosom is whiter than purest snow.
Marvel of the world, the phoenix rising,
Spirit and soul she would have it concealed.
The wolf comes from the east, and the dog from the west
They are full of rage and one kills the other.
The blackness is called “the head of the raven”.
The monodist knows when the black smoke appears.

If all the mountains were made of silver and gold
What would they profit those who live in fear of death?
Thence from the meanest i’ll become the supreme
The lord of the forests without dissonant tunings.
The song of making lays down harmonic leaps,
The sleeping father will be awakened again
Thus i became the puppeteer of creation
Thus i became the monodist of the cosmos.

Labyrinths

You are walking in the sun
But it’s the sun shines in you.
You are concealing the color of your eyes
But it’s the light that leads them to me.
Because for us, a strange thing on the horizon
Will change the sounds, the melodies of twilight.

You are writing with your fingers in the sand,
Your thoughts, your hopes,
The future in your hands
You are shielding your emotion from the hurt
Beyond this wall, it’s unthinkable to fly.
Because for us, a strange thing on the horizon
Will change the sounds, the melodies of twilight.
To smooth the edges sharper than the sword
On the thin line the archer hits the mark.

You are walking in the sun
But it’s the sun shines in you

The Testament of Cremer

Lead
Red stone
Iron
Quick-lime
Sulfur

Creator of the red light
Who dividest the times by certain seasons,
When the sun vanishes,
Fearful chaos comes again.
Restore the light to thy faithful people!
Though thou hast studded
Heaven’s floor with stars,
And inlaid it
With the bright lamp of the moon,
Yet thou dost teach us
Also to strike light out of flints,
And to fan it into life
Out of the stone-born spark.
Thou art the true light of the eyes,
And the light of the senses!

When the blood will write the song
With words and runes
You will die! Or you will be born.

Again!
It’s the king of the endless space,
Who dresses his folk with golden drapes
Fool and wise who fought against,
And your sadness makes them younger again.
I’m the light of alchemy
I’m the brightness of the rhapsody
Good and evil were unborn
You will sing until the end of the world!
Brothers of this monastery
Once in every sixty years
In the name of trinity
You must-not betray the secrets of stones!

This my invocation
Holy lord
The iron of perfection

Again!
When the black raven turns to white
It is called “virgin’s milk”
But the number of such names
Is much larger than the stars of the night.
In the sky the thunder came
All the melodies aflame
It’s the unction from the maid
Through the ages to the fountain of light.

This my invocation
Holy lord
The iron of perfection

Die! Or you will be born.
Or you die! Or you’ll be born.

Il Comandante

Il comandante della nave dei sorrisi
Non abitava più dalle mie parti
Aveva preso il largo all’improvviso
Che quasi non ce n’eravamo accorti.
Ci aveva tanto abituati ai suoi silenzi
Che i suoi silenzi erano il nostro mare
Ci aveva detto di non credere ai romanzi
In cui gli eroi san sempre cosa fare.
Ci aveva detto di non credere ai romanzi
In cui gli eroi sanno ritornare.

Il comandante della nave dei sorrisi
Era partito in una notte chiara,
Levando l’ancora dai nostri visi
Lasciandoci con la bocca amara.
Ci era sembrato che il cielo fosse d’accordo
Perché il vento aveva spinto forte
E non si era visto affacciarsi al bordo
Perché nel cuore portava la morte
E non si era visto affacciarsi al bordo
Perché suonava il pianoforte.

Il comandante della nave dei sorrisi
È ricomparso a metà di un mattino
Le reti gonfie di sogni indifesi
E il viso calmo di chi conosce il destino.
Ci era sembrato che il cielo fosse d’accordo
Perché il vento aveva spinto forte
E non si era visto affacciarsi al bordo
Perché suonava il pianoforte.
E non si era visto affacciarsi al bordo
Perché nel cuore portava la morte.