ARUNASIL'S DREAM

The Gods call:
Indar, Mitrasil, Nasattyana ...
Arunasil demands.
To the East or West,
deep into de South.
Where the Sun is born,
searching for his golden source.
To the hidden West and beyond,
the holy resting place, behind the horizon,
further than the unbound lake.
To conquer the soft, fertile lands,
grab the riches of the decadent,
and learn all they know.
We will become...
Kassites, hittites, celts, hindus.
Indeed, to conquer and be conquered.
To mix and be great.
Fire and sword; wheel and horse.
And with the hard steel,
new civilizations will arise.

BARBARIAN CONVERSION

Conversion.
To Christianity, to civilization.
However,
so much is Lost!


In the Forest,
the barbarians yell, cry, crave;
for their ancient gods.
Pagan rites are forgotten,
idols crumble,
links are broken.


Riches, silk, book;
Culture comes.
However .....
What a Lost!

GREEK TEMPLE

In the temple,
the greek temple.
Longing for the people.
That time is no longer,
not mine.

Could I dare,
dare to believe,
am I one of yours?

Pray to the gods,
to walk again
these humble paths.

ONE HUNDRED YEARS

"France is lost,
France is lost!"
Cry the warriors
at Crécy.

"Save the King!
Where is the King!"
Shout the knights
at Poitiers.

"After Agincourt,
nothing is left",
say the survivors,
just a few.


One hundred years
of endless battles;
and a great nation
arises.

FROM A TO .... W

They came from the East,
the Barbarians.
And we let them in......

THE COLOSSUS OF RHODES, ALIVE

Built to defend, and amaze,
the mighty, indifferent Giant.
Worshiped beyond the horizon.

And yet.....
in this paradise alive.
There is no hidden harbor behind,
and the Colossus rests on Nature, at last.
-stone and tree-

Meanwhile, lovers dance around,
below the gates.
The Statue is alive.

LOST PARADISE

Hunting. Alone.
Deep in de forest.
Waiting for the deer,
By the waterfall.

The lake shines,
under the morning blaze.
And the young warrior,
Of the tribe proud, thinks.
What to do, he wonders.

For his mother, the meat.
The magical marrow,
The heath of the old.
Tendons for the sisters,
to sew new cloths.
But for his beloved Ti,
the soft skin.
To cover their love,
in the chilly nights.

A noise, almost a thunder.
A bear is coming,
To steal his dreams?

Oh! No.
White devils,
in blue cloaks.
Breaking the balance,
The place beauty .

What it means,
He knows:

Paradise is lost.

TO SAMARKAND

In my way to Samarkand.
Caravanserai after another.
Dangers and happyness.
The thrill of the unknown.
The fearless dessition of youth.
The new, unexpected friends, in the caravan.
Lonely nights, and not so, in the dessert.
The cold wind in the night,
The moon over the oases.
your forbidden, hidden kiss.
The look from afar:
Getting ready the camels, nobody notices.
The endless time, eveything seems possible.

And Khiva, along the way.