Videos
Sea ice swaying in waves, just off of Elephant Island, Antarctica
This was a Discovery for me and everyone needs to listen to it. It’s absolutely breathtaking.
*___* OH!!!!!!
When you were a child
You were a tomboy
And your mother laughed at the serious way
That you looked at her
And from your window at night
There were the stars’ little fires
And the armory lightsYou were tracing the lines
Of a globe with your fingers:
Cool rivers, white wastes
Desert shores, and the forest green
And a limitless life
In the breath of each tide
And each bright mountain, risingBut now the boys are away
And such kicks they are having;
Slashing away at the forest walls
With their bitter knives
Sparks bloom in their eyes
And they never look tired
Will they never look tired?On cliffs that tower from the rising seas
Their bonfire glow
Where a tiger lies
And, cleaning their weapons
They laugh at his useless
Claws, and all:
It is a beautiful night
To be born to this life
And grind his every bone to powder!Do you remember
Do you rememberShe carried you down to the edge
Of the dark river and said:
Though the water is wide
You will never grow tired
You are bound to your life
Like a mother and child
You will cling to your life
Like a suckering vine
And like the rest of our kind
You will increase
And increase
Past all of our dreamingA horse without rider
Lungs without breathing
Day without light
Song without singing
A song
(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2Jsr49142k)
Äijö — VärttinäVillage dotard, old idiot
Village dotard, weak in the head
Village dotard, crooked imp
Village dotard, bowlegged
Village dotard, up on the cold hill
Village dotard, a viper on his lap.Croaks and ambles lonely in the night.
Croaks and ambles with an ember in his hands.
Scorches on his palms, his feet on fire,
All lonely in the night, a tired old devil.On the cold hill the adders slide around each other,
One high, two low.
The old man’s palm the curving viper bit,
A stinging wound, a load of vile venom.Old man, alone in the night turns back,
In the stairwell, sits waiting for the viper
Wants to put its wily head on the block,
To axe its slithery neck.“Snake slither-stealthy, enemy eyeslanted, groundprowler heatherhue, earth your evil incubator; thou knowst evil incubation, earth’s stealthy sireling, from earth sired other serpents, snakes of sibilant shades; Know not thy hue however your hue may be, be thee one hue, dark hue, grey hue, be thee brass or bronze hue— Devil’s biter damned, thou shalt not lay upon my lap, feast on my flesh, you lightningback longtooth lord of lies! Flee to the forest, whisk to the willowstems, slither under sullen stones, sable serpent dive thee deep to dirt. Take the ailment away, your hurt to your horrid home; bring the pain to a battlefield, unleash your evil on the enemy. Better the bite banishes the bad, purify the potent poison, away I say— thou vilest viper, never nose round these acres!
Devil’s biter damned, thou shalt not lay upon my lap, feast on my flesh, you lightningback longtooth lord of lies! Flee to the forest, whisk to the willowstems, slither under sullen stones, sable serpent dive thee deep to dirt!”
Old man heals the devil’s bite
Pours out liquor, washes it with spirits,
Pours tar and heats a smokey sauna,
Conjures smoky charms, sings spells in his hut.In the village they all wonder;
Wonder about the old man’s twisting, stumbling,
About the nightly croaking from a hunchbacked devil,
About an old man’s struggles, cast the rudest rumors:“Village dotard, old idiot”
“Village dotard, bowlegged”
Old man, old dotard, weary,
Stronger men could take far less.–Note: Lyrics dubiously patched together from at least four sources, very probably inaccurate, but hopefully evocative! Spellsong lyrics translated here. Further translations here.
“Anger Deno”– Pak Munir
Location: Ngabean Village, Wonosobo Regency, Central Java
Sound: Bundengan (also called kowangan or koangan)I cannot conceive of anything more delightful than a zither designed to be worn as a rain shelter for duck herders. It is literally the most charming thing I’ve ever heard of. I’m so happy this exists. :’)
Thank you Pak Munir! Your voice is so lovely! Definitely check out the article about its origins and revival.“Bundengan is the only instrument that is part hat, part shelter, and part zither! Farmers in this area of Central Java would herd their ducks while wearing this woven bamboo shelter on their heads to protect from sun and rain, also propping the structure up with a stick to take cover like a small tent. On the inside, they added strings and bamboo tabs which mimic, respectively, the sound of the gongs and drums of the Javanese gamelan.
Pak Munir, who plays here, is likely the last real master of this instrument (he’s the first to admit he’s not much of a singer, but I liked the intimate charm of his voice, just like the duck herders in the old days.) While it’s still quite rare, the future of the instrument is looking bright.
To learn why and hear more of this very unique Javanese folk music, check out the new Aural Archipelago post here x ”“[…]When Kunst found (what he called) kowangan in nearby Boyolali, he poetically wrote how the instruments would be “placed in threes or fours in a close circle with the openings turned towards each other, as a small house or shelter.“ In this formation, “In complete serenity and peace of mind, squatting, dry and cosy, underneath this contraption, and with music and song, they wait until the shower is over.” I love this image, I really do, but that world is gone now. Bundengan is finding its way forward in a new context, with a new generation giving it new meaning. There’s even a hashtag, #bundengan, where bundengan enthusiasts can share their latest discoveries and creations. It may not have the naive charm of duck herds in a field, but its just as real, and just as alive.”
Sometimes fantasy authors complain that reality is drab and boring and I just want to shake them by their cynical lapels and yell PORTABLE DUCK-HERDING ZITHER UMBRELLA HOUSES
Oh hail Mary, full of death
Sing me a bitter song
As dark as the day is long
And as black as your eyes are wild
While the hail from the blackened cloud is raking the firmament
Destroying our argument
About the temperature and the time
Wild and unbrokenWe lay like a wounded lamb, facing a billygoat
Bowed down in our heavy coats
Under the force and the threat of his eyes
And we march in our rows and rows
Under a burning hand
Past the scars of the wounded land
Into a country of thorns and spines
Wild and unbrokenOh, God save the chamberlain
Oh, God save his appointed successor
But God saved his hardest face for you and all your kind
That’s what’s troubling meHail Mary, sick and proud
And holding aloft the light
That would burn through a heaving night
And then leave us upon the rocks
And the child who is nearly born
Waits just to do you harm
Like the shock of a broken arm
Or a love that would burn you blind
Wild and unbroken
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Enhydro Agate. Aka, agate with water that is millions of years old trapped inside. They’re formed by silica rich water perculating through volcanic rock, as the silica crystallises it forms layers that end up trapping the water inside. You can just about see some of the consentric rings in this (even though it’s quite faint due to being shades of grey). I believe this one would’ve begun forming around 40 million years ago judging by where my friend brought it back from. I love how when sitting on a shelf it’s very unassuming and yet it’s an absolutely awesome piece when you look closer.
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Idk what this is but I love it
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Just in case you needed a reminder of how big wolves actually are… because sometimes when there’s no context for size, I tend to think of them as a lot smaller than they really are.
Helium Vola– Mord
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 