Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Breed of soil. [#26 - Lord of the Hill]


nnnnBeside the hill and down close to the river the villagers used to meet every evenig, smelling to nature and wild air of the field. 
nnnnBeside the castle and near to the river there is a small garden full of fern and blue stones and He likes to come at evening time.

Water waves on the shore seems to say: Oh! Magnificent time and world! Oh! glimmers of Wisdom and Humanity!

....

"Sometimes, life leads to the Lord of this lands to think about all them, the farmers, the common peasants living beside the hill."

"Can be the simplest, the farmers more happy than the fresh wind? Kindness exist farther than this simplicity? Sure, all are abroad of my own condition and place for to be, here, beside the Kingdom.

....

Breed of soil and leaves and dust and the SUN.

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This is the beauty. [#25 - Lord of the Hill]


*This is the Great Assembly of Notables, shield by shield, sword by sword and honours all. I said thanks in your names to the Highest, my lords...
*This is the Great Reunion. This is the place where the fate of the world is a consensus speech, for the good of all Humanity...

"I think of the distant moon to my wishes, his light, his coolness and beauty." Was said Konrad. "I think the complexity of my sadness and the delicate figure of green grass... I know the elegance the rain's dance is its sad suicide in a multiple silhouette."

In the grand hall the union of characters was like in an ancient and serious legends. In each window, a distant tiny fireflies, and also secrets.

"I think about the beauty of silence..."
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Friday, November 18, 2011

The Shadow. [#24 - Lord of the Hill]


The servant followed him to everywhere.
^ What is about your peace, Mr. Smith? (...)
  In which level of irrelevance, an action can be compared to a   feeling? 
Do you think is possible to grow up brave and gentle at once?

M.S.:
^ I just wish embroider your shadow to my feet, Lord Konrad!

In the dense silence of a corner.

He laughed... deeply.
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The Walker. [#23 - Lord of the Hill]


A walker stopped suddenly in the corner of the village.

Farmer! Where can i find to Lord Konrad?

Through the glossy screen of the fountain [He] answered:
Perhaps... maybe... should be him.

A tiny fish swam down... 
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In the misty welkin. [#22 - Lord of the Hill]


Blue mist on the green hill. Cold silence that fits between my fingers, misty welkin without clouds [...] and it hurts me...
Stones upon stones, moss golden in the violin's palace [...] and it rains over me...
He walk slowly through the mud until your place, black lace dress... and your wise sadness.

L.K:
^ Speak to this tiny Kingdom about your literary beauty!
  Sing to the ice, and in my prairie to the gray sun!

The wild hill have changed its shape to keep safe the humble King.
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Thursday, November 17, 2011

Portrait of an artist [#21 - Lord of the Hill]


  A long long long corridor; it have as well a dozen paintings.

  The artist looked, gaze lost on roof, plaster ceiling. Flying away, the smoky snake born at a green cigarette. 
  His art is this?
  It is beauty, I mean: on that?
^ Your elegant intelligence, where is it?

^ I also am a Lord ...                 [Insolent reply, it was ...]
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Vagrant winds [#20 - Lord of the Hill]


<> Oh! Vagrant winds of the winter evening!
      Behold this ancient & sleepy window! Behind it there is the a tree! Golden candles at the happy leaves!
      Hills of a feminine shape, a landscape
      Dark line on the horizon
      Are my thoughts. Oh sweet wind of anguish! Remember me? You know who I could be?

hjuuu-hjuuu - hjuuu!!!
<> You, longtime friend, Lord Konrad without a doubt!
hjuuu-hjuuu - hjuuu!!!
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Dropped down [#19 - Lord of the Hill]


<> Sr Smith! Sr Smith!? Can you come to see the fire of chimney please?                                                                   [get up the heart!]

<> Yes My Lord, I am here Mr Konrad! What must I see for? 

<> There are many little rainbows in the sparks. Can not you recognize  the angelical shapes there? 

<> Have not dropped down [Angels], still not, my Lord.
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A Golden Bough