#hellenic au

[vasiliquemort]

I am like the water when thy ship roll’d in that night Rough on the surface, but thou cut’st through like a knife And if we were not bound by fate, Never would have known from the look on thy face Lost in thy current like a priceless wine

Life was a willow and it bent before thy wind Head on the pillow, I could feel thee stealing in As if thou wert a mythical thing, A chalice from the palace or a champion ring There was one prize I would die to win

[labelleizzy]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[vasiliquemort]

As the poet dies with unfinished song, Nightingale's groan shall fill night all along As his gift is tart - as honey of wild, As words can't be spoken, and the silence - his bile

I shall come when stars are dark, when the moon is blind, In the dark hour of hound, under your gaze entwined I shall stand and say "come, oh come, heart of mine, Allow me to see your dear face once again - in my mire.."

[vasiliquemort]

That man to me seems equal to the gods, the man who sits opposite you and close by listens to your sweet voice

and your enticing laughter— that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast. For whenever I look at you even briefly I can no longer say a single thing, but my tongue is frozen in silence;

instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin; with my eyes I see nothing; my ears make a whirring noise.

A cold sweat covers me, trembling seizes my body, and I am greener than grass. Lacking but little of death do I seem.

[vasiliquemort]

Hellenic au

How delightful and pleasant is the feeling of completed work - but how unfamiliar it is to my anxiety, and how I yearn for it every one of all my attempts. Each series of drawings is a brother to each other, but in my eyes, like children, they are different in their tones, ideas, practices and abilities - and it is always difficult for me to compare them with each other.

But in the meantime, I completed my warmest, closest thought for this month! And Hellenic au was revealed - not fully, but close to my ardent and ragged thoughts and tones of my soul, changeable, like the characters of these drawings.

It all started with Asra - in them I saw the sacrament of sensuality, Eros - the chaos of darkness and night, an arrow of love in an exhausted, yearning heart. The reflection of the will of Hecate lives in them - in Asra I see the moon, the mystery of witchcraft, the lord of both magic and the underworld, and in the duality of their gentle hand they are the most beautiful of all.

Pavla is beautiful and crushingly tender, like a May thunderstorm, like a gentle summer rain - like Hebe, she is the embodiment of the purity and joys of youth, the cupbearer of the divine table - and like Euphrosyne, she is the embodiment of grace, sisterhood and beauty, the spark of Aphrodite, a sign of goodwill and the joys of life in the world.

Ilya struck me with the gloom and sensuality of his nature from the first day, all of him - like a kiss, like an open wound - and in him I see a vulnerable pain, and a nightmare, and the prevention of a cursed end - a nymph of the underworld Melinoya rises like a black mare at night. They are merciful, the gentle, sensitive hand of the guide of the underworld - and with Elia you are blind from love will step to hell, as if into a house of celebration and pleasure.

Lucio, full of morbidity and greedy predation, began to play with completely different colors - gorgeous and exhausted, like a misty sun, he dressed in scarlet clothes as Apollo, in him are both pleasure and adoration, and a holiday of every day. But there is still hidden dried blood in the mouths of hounds, and an endless, dishonest war - the statue of Ares was the embodiment then, and a man of heavy will holds a sword in a deceptively soft now, iron, like a vice, hand.

Nadia was powerful and gorgeous in each of her incarnations - in the guise of a Hera she stands above each of the heavens, and on the face of the goddess of a zealous and fierce are shadows of a heavy soul, and in her hand, rigid, ruling, a gilded blade, distorted by past battles, is expectantly clenched. It was a picture full of gravity and striking, and in this I see beauty amongst all women - like Boreas she rises like a heavy north wind, and like Ananka, Nadia is relentless.

Muriel avoided my hands for so long, and I turned to him with longing questioning - but a picture of light amid darkness and clarity appeared to me, and in it I saw a reflection of the most primary of my feelings, the very first and most familiar one. I had the idea to portray him as Dionysus - and in him I saw both nymphs, and naiads, and Pan, and Zephyr, but only after writing the Hermit Muriel was born in my hand - and who else but Hades, invisible, gloomy, eternal, compassionate in a gentle ruling hand, was given to become him?

[vasiliquemort]

Dome of all heavens

[vasiliquemort]

Rugstanti Saule

[vasiliquemort]

When the count dies on his treasury, At night there will be cries and animal howling. You can't take gold and silver with you, Therefore, he guards his goods like a chain dog.

When the poet dies without finishing his song - Nightingale crying will fill the night. His gift is bitter - like wild honey, For words are forbidden, and silence is torment.

When I die - in your arms Don't be in a hurry to mourn me How can I leave, return to dust, Without feeding my eyes, without pacifying my soul?

I will not come with the stars, and not with the moon, In the dark hour of the wolf on your porch. Come out, come, my heart, to me, Let me see your face once again ...

And sweeter than morning, brighter than day, You shall go out, my beloved friend, to welcome me, To take me on a long journey With silver in temple, and aspen in chest.