Monday, November 12, 2007

Rest not easy, dear adventurers ...

Those who are dead are not ever gone
They are in the darkness that grows lighter

They are in the trembling of the trees
In the moaning of the woods
In the water that runs
In the water that sleeps
They are in the hut, they are in the crowd.
The dead are not dead.
Listen to things.

Trumpeting elephants hoot
In the darkening wood
Above the cursed drums,
Black night, black night!

Fear lurks in the hut
In the smoking torch
In the orphaned river
In the weary, soulless forest
In the anxious, faded trees

Black night, black night!

extract from "Sarzan" by Birago Diop

5 comments:

Insanodag said...

This does not necessarily bode well. I suggest that everybody buys Eolar a round of drinks before we leave the elven outpost.

Mendez said...

I suggest Eolar takes his third level in Cleric as I buy him that drink?
Also, 'Eli Siegel'?

robogeek said...

Eli Siegel - the founder of "Aesthetic Realism" whatever that might be :P

Actually, it is not a poem as such, but a collection of paragraphs from Self and World, sewn together by me.

Google is great. The only reason this is here is that I googled "The Darkening Wood" and a critique on Siegel was one of the links.
:)

robogeek said...

Plus, going back to look at it, the poem is from "Sarzan" by Birago Diop a Senagalese writer. Not by Siegel at all ...
Google, only good if person using it has a bit of basic intelligence ...

Mendez said...

1 bit of basic intelligence won't go far.