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The source of evil putti


The source of evil putti


The
hidden garden fountain is under the acacias,
there is rumor of turbid water which reflects

moon and the sun is not ever. Angels

fleshy hands
fun of spring. Seven Seraphim

malignant cholera that old spit venom spread
sweet.

Walker No, do not approach the source
enclosed garden, sweet waters

not satisfy your thirst
and confounded the senses.

venom
dissolved in water will burst the brain,
créer will make you that you were God, all gods as
inclemente
and ready to kill.

---- ---- original Catalan

The source of evil putti


The source of the hidden garden
under the acacias, turbid water murmurs


where the moon reflects the sun heats not ever.

Angels hands from the spring molsudes
laugh.
are seven angels with malignant cholera

old spit venom spread sweet.

not walk, do not come near to the source
the garden fence, their freshwater

do not quench your thirst
and you confuse the senses. The poison dissolved water


you blow the brain
will make you believe that God, all gods as inclement

and willing to kill.

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The art of the future

Image: Francis Cornadó. Black Book

The art is occupied solely by him recently, the state also, but with the claims and recogerlo erigirlo norm in the future, a future that belongs to it will not, but in life, at the venues.

The art is barbed, true and sincere, state becomes entangled in lies and contradictions.

Wagner. The art of the future.

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After nearly a year than have this blog, I think this sonnet comes to mind.

Intermezzo

Now, in the middle of the book propose an intermission,
a pause to allow me to clarify
that goodness is a device and expect nothing
or roses or roses.

You've noticed, perspicacious reader,
here there is no verse indulgent and kind,
that bitterness is present in the pages
As in the streets and every evening, the man

always sticks left and right and sometimes
comfort with losing an eye, so
miss the other two at once. Made

clarification
I can continue with this booklet
leaving their pages stained white with a yellow bile.

- --- - original in Catalan - --- -

Entrevall

mig del llibre Ara at a entrevall Faig, a pause
em
Permet clarify that the bonhomie is a
device that res i hope, nor flors or violate. Ja

t'has adonat, discerning readers,
here there is a verse or forgiving kind,
that bitterness is present in the pages
like the streets and every afternoon,

man esbatussa always tentipotenti
comfort and sometimes you lose eye ,
to lose in the other two at once.

Done clarification
I continue with this booklet
spotted leaving their white pages with yellow bile.

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Ibycus Intermezzo

Sisyphus - Tiziano

The work is a punishment of Sisyphus. He empujando the rock and then up to the summit that vuelve rolling hillside down. And again start again. The Sisyphean effort is useless.

In order to progress well something is happening.
The human species as such, has not progressed through history. The belief that progress must lead to a higher world is a waste of monotheistic belief.

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Ibycus
s. VI BC-one of the nine lyric poets of Alexandria

-----------------------------------
----------------------------- Love burns me

In the spring, quince

watered by streams of rivers where the garden
intact, and the Virgin
vines growing in the shade of the branches
bloom, but love does not sleep
for me in any season,
but, like the Thracian Boreas by lightning on,
rushing, sent by cyprid,
amid withering fury that all
dark and bold, powerfully from the bottom
stirred my senses. L'


love em cream

A spring els pels codonyers
regats corrents
dels rius-on hi ha a les Verges
jardí of trepitjat no-i sota els dels raïms
creixent Pampols ombrívols
floreixen; per month to me
love tea bo l'temps cap off, but
, com pel the Thracian Boreas encès llamp, precipitating
house-cypris is
amb Abrus Follies, dark, bold,
poderosament, des dels fons (waves)
els meus sentits.

------------------------------------------------ -------------------

too old to love again

Eros, looking languidly
under eyelids with blue eyes, a thousand seductions
me
pushed into inextricable network of cyprid.

I fear when I see it as a horse approaching
yoke sufferer, the winner of the Games
at its vejez, Grado bad foot, with a car entering veloz career.


Too old for love

Eros, again, looking at me under her eyelids with blue eyes
languid,
seductions of all sorts with my launches
the uncertain Cipri networks.

Indeed I tremble to see it approaching, like a horse
carrier yoke, award winning, when
old walks reluctantly, with the fastest car in the competition.

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Les towers

Image: Francis Cornadó. Black Book.

towers Kessel

towers were destroyed by Kessel replaced by other modern fracture.

termites gnawing the wooden rafters
and thins the walls, barrel vaults and
not be supported in substance
firm
the past and when crushed stones restored
still collect
the blocks of shame
to sort them according to an order
spectacular and foolish.

translation --- --- --- ---

The towers Kessel

The towers have been destroyed from Kessel by reemplazadas other modern fracture.

termites gnaw the wooden beams and main walls
thins
and barrel vaults
not be support in the past
firm substance and when the stones are crumbling
restored even pick
the blocks of pity
to sort in the order
dramatic and crazy.

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The smell of water metaphors Harold

We have no doubt that many of the views that are reported in the articles of this collection, have a dark complexion and certainly devastating for those with a padded belief system, and in this we must be clear: we are not looking to alter systems beliefs, simply reporting a fact of human reality, from a standpoint that we strive to be as objective and communicable possible.

Humanity seems to be programmed (or perhaps hypnotized Gurdjieff would say ?) With a pink cynicism about the reality, if we may, with a program smart enough to patch dynamically that contrasts with the belief system: if we in fact something we defatting, almost automatically, ignoring or rejecting react, only those that subjectively we need is what we end up. Here goes

perhaps the main difficulty, as we learn more easily contrast . But at the mosaic reject those parts unpleasant reality, our knowledge, that is, the database of reality, is incomplete: we condemn or marginalize facts (and here Charles Fort we could recommend his book The Book of the Damned ) , and so the puzzle remains incomplete and unresolved.

Then when looking for the easy solution: believe; believe or suppose something knowable is extremely dangerous. We must recognize that believe or splinting the macabre reality faith is an attitude based on comfort and denial: the denial of reality as it is. In fact, could say it is a parasitic attitude because it takes a very passive attitude, which is missing the critical component, analytical and, above all conscious activity.

Human reality view an objective is very different from how we perceive it, and even more, as conceptualized, the concept is a composite of our particular belief system, and therefore subjective. Let an analogy: today the texts of initial and advanced still continue to show that water is colorless, odorless and tasteless, this characterization being unscientific and completely subjective, it is clear that our sense organs are water-based biological and therefore not recorded any peculiarity of the medium on which they are operating.

Likewise, being engulfed our perception, and especially our conceptualization of reality in the marsh human senses, many signs of reality escape us, and worse, our mind we played against to try to fit the square inside the circle to avoid disagreement the consensus model, different opinions are afraid because we dislike segregation we do not want to be labeled as crazy or insane .

But being self-centered by nature, being based in our engine cerebral draconian R-complex, we hides and conceals the fact we are living in an entropic reality ... indeed, by nature do not perceive the smell of water.

Is that all is hidden from us? Apparently not. However, to achieve recognition be made a reality out of balance, allows us to expand our belief system, and optimized decisions ... is this perhaps the first step to take.

With the passage of time has doubts in our minds: who has unbalanced the board? It is clear that the heavy foot has sunk in discord not human. And after pondering a while, it's time to ask why?

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Pinie Kessel und Blitz Lautreamont

Imatge: Francesco Corner. Black Llibreter
Text: Friedrich Nietzsche. Pinie und Blitz.

Like a liturgy, we will justify "all this "as an aesthetic phenomenon.

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Cantos de Maldoror (fragment)

(...) There are times in life when lousy mane man launches, staring, eyes wild green space membranes, because he seems to hear in front of him, the ironic piggy bank of a ghost. He shook his head and low, has heard the voice of conscience. then rushes out of the house with a crazy speed, making the first address offered to his surprise, and devours the rugged plains of the countryside. But the yellow ghost not lose sight and pursues him with similar speed. Sometimes, on stormy nights, when legions of winged octopi, which by far seem ravens hovering above the clouds, turning with firm bogadas to the cities of humans, with a mission to warn that they should change behavior pebble dark eye looks through, one after another, two people with the clarity of lightning, and, wiping away a furtive tear of compassion that slides out from its eyelid cream, exclaims: 'Verily, it deserves no more than a act of justice.

Having said this, he regains his sullen attitude, and still observed, with a nervous trembling, a man hunting, and large lips of the vagina of shade from which emerge constantly, like a river, huge dark sperm taking momentum into the ether dark, hiding in the vast array of bat wings, the whole of nature, and the legions of octopuses that have become morose at the sight of these flares deaf and inexpressible. "

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Eighth Earl of building surveyors sonnet


8.

The wolf howls made
darkest night and the cries of owls and owls are known song
fear,
we hear behind the window .

deer will need to protect her cubs and mouse
hide in the burrow deep
canids as their eyes lit
and see everything from worms and bushes.

If you have the hot blood may flee the onslaught
bloodthirsty beast
white tusks hidden in the trees.

But if the wolf is gone, suspicion of the arrows,
because if you bring down the Jackal
come after you lick your last breath.

- - - original in Catalan --- --- - - -

8.

llop Udols fan of dusky la nit més i els
esgarips d'Olibos i mussols
are the cancer of the through coneguda,
you hear behind the window.

will need to protect the deer mouse pups
and hide in the burrow deep
butchers have their eyes and see everything lit
among alders and scrub.

If you can escape the fiery blood
the bloodthirsty onslaught of the wolf
white tusks concealed al'arbreda.

If the wolf goes, suspected of arrows, because if
t'abaten will head the jackal
lleparà that your last breath.

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The famous filmmaker or, let the more archaic term, maker of stories Harold Ramis has provided us with a successful series of films with touches esoteric, but for your sets.

Without dwelling too much on the movie Ghostbusters (in which anyone with a fertile imagination could find scatological metaphors sync and some of the topics discussed in this collection include: the apocalyptic battle against a Sumerian god exchanger forms dense demonology and infestation problems, and last but not least the possession and exorcism attempt to Dana Barrett), we will turn to two other films that portray low the surface of the play any of the subjects interesting.

prefer the title Groundhog Day the Spell antisonante Time (in the original: Groundhog Day ), perhaps because some happy finds the inquisitive eye Groundhog allegory with the archetype of Loco. Indeed, the film seems to hide some deep meaning behind that happy ending Phil Connors and Rita together.

For those who could not even enjoy the movie the story tells of a time loop, in which Phil , the protagonist, a forecaster time - is enclosed reliving every day since coming to town. This gift or gift to relive the same day seems to arouse in the player the illusion of free and failing because of their acts, can act with greater selfishness.

It's funny how certain gifts only discover or expose (a fun pun on exponentiate and placed outside ) what we have inside; like when Gollum observes first ring. And like Gollum the gift is soon transformed into a curse ... Phil finally includes real backdrop of illusory freedom: its prison without walls and pursues all means to escape it without success.

The answer finally comes through their being polar Rita, who in weighing the situation offers a change of attitude, which the protagonist begins the arduous task of reoriented, ie, stop feeling the victim, start to recognize their selfish attitudes towards others already offer, in short, to the trained eye, this transformation occurs through conscious suffering: from egocentric service to the service of others . Perhaps a nod to the famous Russian author Mouravieff , author of books Gnosis, who said humanity is in an infinite loop, until he leaves his selfishness and being able to identify those influences release him illusion.

may Al Bedazzled (the original Bedazzled ) allows the discovery of these influences . The story places the protagonist in a situation Faustian motivated by a refusal of love, which leads him to agree to a representative of the World authorities.

Every desire of the protagonist ends away from its desired love, until he begins to realize that the pact has been a mistake, but the situation worsens, as the exogenous factor moves the pieces of human reality with the aim of isolate and subdue his spirit.

In the meantime, believing all was lost, curiously in a prison, the protagonist find a character that will tell you their real options, and take you to redirected through not egocentric influences. Here again

steps occur:

• recognize exogenous manipulation, in this case a negative amorous attitude
• stop longing: not trying to rule over others;
• begin to know himself;
• orient service to others (*)

***

(*) This does not mean dressing acolyte far deny oneself. Serve another can be as simple as providing an ear when someone needs it, in short, to show an openness to learn neighbor.

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Pi de Formentor

Miró. The Pine of Formentor. Engraving Aguatinta 1976

The Pine of Formentor
Miquel Costa i Llobera

my heart loves a tree! Oldest olive
stronger than oak, more green than orange, canned
ses
and leaf spring eternal struggle with the winds that atupen the banks, it creak
that region.

not watch ses leaves for the flower lover, not the
Ses Fontanella shadows kiss;
month aroma God anointed his head and gave him consecrated ground
the rugged mountains, the vast source
for March When

far above the waves, they are divine light,
not sing to the bird that encaptivam ses branches;
hears the cry of the sublime sea eagle or vulture who
up being gigantic wing
leaves are removed. From silt

his life not of this earth sustains;
revincla for his powerful roots rock;
have rains and winds and light pink and fiery
and as an old prophet, receives life and feeds the
love the sky.

Tree sublime! the genius he is the spitting image;
overlooking the mountains and the endless wait;
him to the ground is hard, most are kisses ramatge
love the sky, and has lightning and weather for
glory and delight.

Oh yes, when the winds roar at leisure
and appears between the foam you turn your rock, then he laughs and sings
stronger than
waves and winning over the clouds shake his
caballera real.

tree envy my heart. On the ground impure
as I pledge I shall wear your holy memory.
constant struggle and win, and reign over the height
feed themselves and live in heaven and pure light ...
Oh life! oh noble luck! Top

strong soul! Transfer the boirada
and rooted within the tree as the height of cliffs.
You'll fall in tea plants in the world angry sea, and teas
songs will calm the wind and the bird
storms.

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ODA XXX - HORACIO

Imagen: Francesc Cornadó. Llibreta Negra

ODA XXX
Horacio

Exegi monumentum aere perennius
regalique situ pyramidum altius,
quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens
possit diruere aut innumerabilis
annorum series et fuga temporum.
Non omnis moriar multaque pars mei
vitabit Libitinam; usque ego posterea
crescam laude recens, dum Capitolium
scandet cum tacita virgine pontifex.
Dicar, qua violens obstrepit Aufidus
et qua pauper aquae Daunus agrestium
regnavit populorum ex humili potens,
princeps AEolium carmen ad Italos
deduxisse modos. Sume superbiam
quaesitam Meritis et mihi Delphic
Lauro cinge want, Melpomene, comam.

translation of Narcissus Comadira

There write in the Catalan ode 30 of Book III of Horace

I raised a monument more lasting than bronze.
highest majesty the pyramids,
neither winter nor voracious tramuntanada
will not collapse, the chain
countless years of the passage of time or fleeing.
not die completely, a good part my
burlarà Libitina: I will praise
grow, while the Capitol
Pope climb the unspoiled quiet.
And where the river resonates Ofant, wild land where
poor water, Daunus
reigned over the shepherds, tell me, born of a strain
humble, I was the first song to show
Eolia . Tu, Melpomene, pride
hosts deserved, and kind,
stick my head with the laurel of Delphi.

-Shirts --- --- --- ---

I built a work more perennial than bronze, more high
the actual tomb of the Pyramids;
can not destroy or voraz Aquilon storm
neither safe, nor the innumerable series
the years with that escapes the time.
I will not die at all, much to stay away from me
Libitina: will grow steadily, while the Pontiff
up to Capitol Hill with the virgin
quiet, and in future times
reborn in praise.
And where the river Áufido resonates, the wild, where land
poor water Dauno
reigned on shepherds, tell me,
having risen from the humblest,
was the first to join the singing aeolian Italian rhythms.
Accept, O Melpomene, this just superb and kind
cinema with the laurel of Delphi. ODA

Horacio XXX

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Eupalinos

Image: Francesco Corner. Black Llibreter

Inspired Socratic dialogue Phaedrus or beauty , Paul Valéry wrote Eupalinos or architect. A text in which Socrates and Phaedrus dialogue about the appearance abstract architectural forms and the relationship between music and architecture.

experience the architecture with our senses, look and move within it. The architect's work takes on a significance that goes beyond the walls and foundations and purpose of job creation by the architect Paul Valéry said: We

us move, live ... in the work of man (architect) ! Somehow breathe there the will and preferences of someone. We dominated possession and the proportions chosen by him. We can not escape it.

Well then, this leads to vanity. The young student of architecture endian danger of believing that dominate the breath and movements of those who inhabit the buildings to be designed. Runs too proud, you run the danger of believing that his only partner is planning to Socrates and just a foot high above other mortals.

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ARCHITECT OR DENIAL BY THE ENJOYMENT sonnet geometer

Image: Francesco Corner. black Llibreter

often we tend to enjoy what we have lost. It is the feeling of pleasure that can be in the blues. When we no longer possess the property lost, we enjoy it more intensely than when we had at our disposal. This is certainly a perversion of romanticism. Pleasure is increased by denial.

This melancholy tension effect reverses positive values, so that when a work of art stand out defects or denials, ability to print positive element is enhanced, missing values \u200b\u200bare more pervasive and deterioration of valuable object becomes a positive value.

Although it has its effectiveness from the moral point of view, the aesthetic enjoyment of denial is something shameful, not according to reason.

When a work of art emphasizes the tension and stresses the abnormal, perfect, tragic or demonic reaction encourages and fosters our reconciliation or benevolence, that is, moral sentiments stirred condescending to the criminal, but not before that has served his sentence and atoned for the crime. "Now, all a romantic program.

From nil nisi bene Mortius
of the dead they say, but the good.

Indeed, this is so because it coincides with our natural feelings. When he died the worst has happened we believe may happen, to not exist. Is this what makes us be kind to him?

The denial enjoyment, here is a romantic perversion.

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Fifth Death in Beverly

5.

three cylinders are raised in the distance, beyond
thorny fence, three fireplaces
fuming death
aphotic dark and smoldering destruction. Everything smells
effective
crematorium
of the twentieth century, progress invested
of refined civilization,
of no return and race control.

I do not do many lines to count
all who die, only
notebook with a list without names, just numbers.

museums now build memory,
of withered flowers of black smokers,
high hedges and secular hatred.

original in Catalan

5. Hi

has three cylinders
month s'aixequen cledissa Enllà of thorny
three xemeneies that Treuen fum de mort,
fosques i afòtiques fumegen extermination. Tot

shame fa d'effective crematorium segle
of Vintage, programming invested
of refined civilization,
of no return and control breeds.

do not need too many lines to count
all who die, only one book
a list without names, just numbers. Now we

museum of memory,
wilted flowers, Chimney black
of secular id'odi high hurdles.

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The casket

death in Beverly Hills

Peter Gimferrer

V
In the cabins there telefónicas
misteriosas dibujadas with inscriptions of Lápiz labios. Words of the latest
Son las Muchachas Sweet Blondes
that with bloody cleavage shelter there to die.
Last night under the neon light, the last day in the sun amazing, just streets
irrigated with magnolias, yellow headlights of cars
patrol at dawn.
you wait for one and a half, when you leave the cinema and
this time is dead in the tank
woman whose body was a bouquet of orchids. Wounded in the shooting
night
corners cornered by reflectors, slapped in the night-clubs, and Sweet
my true love in my arms crying.
A final clarity, thinner and sharper,
seems to slip the premises closed:
this light stops passers
and talks softly of his childhood.
Music from another time, singing to the rhythm of notes whose old
met one night to Ava Gardner,
girl wrapped in a clear waterproof
kissed once in the elevator, in the dark between two floors, and
had very blue eyes , and always spoke very quietly
voice called Nelly.
Close your eyes and listen to the song of the sirens in the night
silver neon signs.
The night is warm blue avenues. Shadow embrace shadows
pools and bars.
In the dark sky the stars fought
when he died of love,
and it was like smelling a perfume slowly.

In "Death in Beverly Hills" Pere Gimferrer

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The border lifted the strongest of all and was granted, finished the work, the right to cross it. In an ivory casket kept the horror and the keys to the gates of the wall.

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Hills Crater

Pandora crater

hawks have gone out that night

knives have spread
the confines of the world. It is uncertain


hunger or some links are
of progress, nor are the trains
weighting promises
mirrors and trinkets. No spine


Neon Rose is beneficial
and a serpent to the century challenges
and draw in the sand
the cry of abundance.

At dawn everything glows like the curved sword blade.
At dawn, no excuse, we will have to bend the spine. The crater


Pandora black birds have left.

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Pandora Pandora, the persuasive

The beautiful woman, graceful and persuasive he could not restrain his curiosity. He opened the jar and the evil spread throughout the world. They were birds of ill omen that flew and projected their sinister shadow over all the earth.

was only hope in the bottom of the jar.

Hope is the poor consolation to mortals need to walk these roads and, despite some ailment, can accompany the stations, now a step, yet another small step and we thus tricking the body into believing that all the way is ours and believe that we can lead the revolution, another form of comfort that will surprise Pandora and the gods who provided the container that contained all the evils.

Pandora The amphora was black.

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The Pierides


I do not know if I speak with a magpie or vulgar or Cécride or Colímbade Pipo. I do not know if your feathers is one of the Pierides or you simply Picaza scraping the bones of the dead cow.

Will you be one of the nine daughters of Thrace, daughter of Piraeus Evipe of Pela, who dared to compete with the Muses? Your pride

betrayed you. You were good at singing, but not enough to compete with the Muses. For your daring received divine punishment.

magpie Finally, almost prefer that you are the common bird of the trails that a proud Pierides.

Hilicón stay in the Muses and the gods on Mount Olympus us down here, we manage without being accountable to anyone.

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Salvador Espriu

Image: Joan Miró. Etoile-Personnage

Cemetery Sinera


XXV

At sea.
had a house, my dream,
the sea.
Senior bow. For free
waterways, the slender boat
I commanded.

knew all eyes rest and order
a small country. How
need
tell you about the dread
rain the glass! Today

dark night falls on my house.
black rocks
attracts me to wreck.
Captiu the song, the meu struggled
useless pot qui
al'alba guide-me? Ran of the sea

had a house, lent somni.

- Castilian translation --- --- -

Sinera Cemetery

XXV

At sea.
had a house, my dream,
to the sea. High

bow. For
free water paths, the slender boat
I drove.

eyes
knew all the rest and order
a small country.

need to tell you how scary

gives rain on the windows. Today

falls on my house the dark night.


black rocks attracted me to wreck. Captive
the song,
my wasted effort,
Who guides me to the dawn?

Along with sea had
a house, my dream.

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Interpreting dialogues

In a hot and crowded subway car of a metropolitan, members of a family seeking shelter in nearby seats, perspiration, moisture and odors of the dark tunnel mingle with the noise of the brakes. Motor is stopped, maybe the power supply has collapsed again, some emergency lights hover in the barren blackness timid. Casual dialogue begins between the families.

Memories and anecdotes from the past are threaded with smiles and blank looks. At one point the conversation begins to resemble the tunnel ... dark and silent, perhaps esoteric reminiscent of the absence of light shoot those philosophical concepts that lie in the subconscious, under the leaves of many autumns numb vain and loud.

A strange theme emerges, one of the young voices, paddling his thirties, he proposes: man is a parasite, produces nothing and consumes everything, observe, give us the goose feathers for pillows, eggs and meat, the cow much: the leather, milk and a barbecue ... But man what else do they prey? Nothing, just played and continues to use and depleting reserves.

The clash between refutations voices and opinions, some humorous comments deviate from the solemn talk ... at times the subject takes refuge in jesters answers, until a voice had been silent old woman says: my grandfather commented that in nature there is nothing to not take advantage, the ancient teachings of shamans from the village of my grandfather taught that man two naturally occurring substances that are used by the dark gods, but that man should not know, because if so no longer provide the quantity or quality in their ignorance occurs.

The faint flickering light and the silence in the car seemed to create the ambiance of a fireplace in which the wisdom of the elders flowed toward the young. One of them ventured to ask: what are those substances? For out of the car the voices of the guards, apparently the power outage is not general and only some stations of the branch. Eyes

marked by the chisel of time is close, perhaps looking for the right words, not all of these may are prepared and the issue had emerged too spontaneity. Shamans are selective about the recipients of this knowledge, and on the other hand can be detrimental to those who are not ready to passively know some truths need to be committed to know: the only way knowledge is transformed into understanding and over time, something that one can consciously apply in your life.

Guachos

The Wings of the Condor, this illustration in the book
The

old woman's voice spoke slowly: my grandfather only came to comment one of those substances were the emotions, those that arise and that one can not choose or direct: he spoke that emotions are like the horses, there are some gentle and polite, some wild and brave. The runaway emotions and unbridled , those that arise from anger and violence or pain and terror are the most prized by dark gods . A strange smile played: the other substance because I had to figure he was not there to teach, however, and after meditating for some time with my wife understand it.


Footsteps hurried through the tunnel and the sudden return of light in the car cleared the conversation, he heard the shaking of the compressor to refill the air tanks ... would spend a few seconds until the air pressure mark the brakes were safe enough to resume walking.

The first voice, that he had initiated the dialogue, he asked, and what is then the second substance? light fade again and this time the batteries had no opportunity to absorb the consumption of the compressor, the car remained in darkness ... Cabin heard some provocative oaths.

- may be better to think a bit in the first substance the second may be deduced from the first he said calmly. Since the prevailing darkness could even guess two points of light that blinked slowly.

There was a strong shot from inside the car, which turned to vibrate, the light had conquered the darkness of this time. Quickly started training. Those

astonished passengers whose ears were folded with the improvised dialogue curiosity, to get to their stations, were seen down the car with an air of contemplation, pensive now a serendipitous ancient wisdom that had grazed their mundane existences. ***

Those interested in learning more about shamanism have an introductory book Roberto Torres, called The Guachos , moreover, in Emerging World There is an excellent article that provides some descriptions of as shamans see our consensual reality.

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Second epode against fearful

Second epode against fearful black

What dread of the night, so dark
! The landscape
ignored the abyss known
only a step
few meters and a leap least
immense.
Up on the cliffs, cracked teeth and light

trembling in the horizon line
faded away. The strength
mirror withered black ash
pain, evil
flowers, weeds and singing as always:
the Sibyl
You see, walking in fear, fear that impedes the passage
and sanity and road
becomes flat open pit at the foot of this epode
.

.. ... ... .. Catalan original .. ... ... ..

Segon epode against porucs

That black N'is of the basarda of nit,
so sullen. From paisatge conegut
al'abisme ignorat
a country,
pocs meters and a salt Només least
immense.
A dalt the penya-Segato espeteguen les dents i la llum

that trembles at the line of the horizon hidden
distant spread.
The strength of the mirror black ash pain
wither.
flowers of evil, weeds and singing as always:
the Sibyl,
You see, walking afraid, afraid that the bar over

and wisdom and makes plain the way to open a gap feet of this
epode.