Category Archives: Lyric

Craft of the White-Crow…

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Whiter than the swan on a lake

Whiter than the gull of the stream

Whiter than snow on the high-peak.

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Like a wave of the sea from ebb to flood

Slender as the tall-birch, blowing…

Of a shape-sweet as full bodied clover, bobbing…

Of a colour-fair as summer’s bright morn, glowing…

Your presence, the dawning glory of the land.

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Lovely the sun’s smile, rising…

Lovely the moon’s sheen, climbing…

 Lovely the stars gleam, shining…

 More lovely, the blush of your cheek.

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Obelisk: Alchemical Gold…

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As soon as one posits one-self

‘Natura Superior’…

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One is

immediately confronted with earth as dirt,

and the need to flee this filthy spectre

becomes paramount…

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Yet it may be that

the outer ring of stars in space

is nothing more than a reflected inner.

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Roses, after all, thrive on dung.

Dilemmas…

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For over Two-Thousand years

Fine minds have

Pondered the problem

Of philosophical dualism.

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The living soul

A quickening spirit.

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This dilemma, perhaps, can

Best be approached by

Considering three questions.

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Why,

Clean the house

Before a birth?

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Why,

Tidy the house

Before a guest?

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And what must have

occurred before one

Is able to

Do these things?

– Count Jack Black

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Carnival…

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…Face of moving water

Breathing in water

The water a breathing face…

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Today I will speak to you

For, today, we hold a race

A sprint to the death

Whose spirit yields to the swiftest

The fleetest of foot…

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He, who with the most fateful

Imagination of mind

Can picture the year

Bearing fruit

through a carnival of fear…

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It is he whom we call great

He, who grants freedom to stars.

Bardic Study – Waltz of the New Moon…

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Another one of Robin’s early efforts.

When invoking the  Bardic Spirit  there  are not  too many candidates around, unfortunately…

For a spell this was my all time favourite song ever, if only for its helter skelter whirl of minor key madness…

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I hear that
the Emperor of China
used to wear iron
shoes with ease…
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I think these lines refer to a type of ‘not to touch the earth’ scenario.
That is, The Emperor, who is regarded by his subjects as a ‘God incarnate’ is held to be too sacred to be sullied by the touch of the earth.
In contradistinction to this rather absurd notion Robin then sets out his own position.
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We are the tablecloth, and also the table, and also the fable of the dancing leaves…
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That is, we are  the structure and garment of life’s spread, both the Spirit and the Flesh and Bone, and the continual re-incarnation of the spirit in that continually recycled flesh…
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The new moon is rising
the axe of the thunder is broken
as never was
not since the flood
nor yet since the world began…
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This  process, in case we ever forget, is exemplified for us in the cycle of the Moon.
Every new moon then… is also a new beginning.
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The new moon is shining
the angels are washing their windows
above the years
whose jumble sale
goes spinning on below.
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Could anything be clearer?
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Ask the snail beneath the stone,
ask the stone beneath the wall
are there any stars at all?
Like an eagle in the sky,
tell me if air is strong…
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We may pity the stone and the snail their stony snail lives in the relative dark but even the eagle who knows about the sky and the stars knows nought of the constituents of the means of its flight.
These then are the natural and eternal hierarchies of an ever expanding understanding.
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In the floating pan pipe victories
of the golden harvest
safe in the care of
the dear moon…
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The notes of the pan pipe do float.
And the sickle moon is ultimately responsible for the cutting of the corn.
(This song was composed, at night, in a corn field, in August.)
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The new moon is rising
the eyelid of god is approaching
The humane train
the skating
raining
travelling
voice of certainty…
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The new moon is shining,
the harmonious hand is now holding,
Lord Krishna’s ring,
the eagle’s wing,
the voice of mother,
everything…
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And the voice of mother brings with it a bright blessing…
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In the floating palaces,
of the spinning castle…
May the Fire King’s Daughter,
bring water to you.
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The Fire King is the Sun.
The Fire King’s Daughter is the Moon.
The spinning castle is the Earth.
Its floating palaces are the Clouds.
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…Which bright blessing, is… the rain.
 
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‘Waltz of the New Moon’ appears on The Incredible String Band’s third studio album, ‘The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter’, which is widely regarded as their finest album.

The title is colloquial slang for a gallows or scaffold.

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