Black angel on white snow,
reduced a hundredfold by a gloomy magician.
Death is sorrowful, but to live, I cannot.
In the bleak park no one is about.
In the bleak park there is always silence,
and a pine tree — like a stranger — stands.
Lean up against it, partake of the wine,
that lies — by the heart — in the pocket.
I made to recollect; but
at first it humiliated and then it killed.
It's overly cold in this light coat.
The angel beats its black wings.
— Fly to your heaven, my dear,
and recount, as if god were still alive:
it's still, he says, winter, still peaceful,
just some fool being lonely.
Boris Ryzhy - Black angel on white snow
reduced a hundredfold by a gloomy magician.
Death is sorrowful, but to live, I cannot.
In the bleak park no one is about.
In the bleak park there is always silence,
and a pine tree — like a stranger — stands.
Lean up against it, partake of the wine,
that lies — by the heart — in the pocket.
I made to recollect; but
at first it humiliated and then it killed.
It's overly cold in this light coat.
The angel beats its black wings.
— Fly to your heaven, my dear,
and recount, as if god were still alive:
it's still, he says, winter, still peaceful,
just some fool being lonely.
Boris Ryzhy - Black angel on white snow
Fall Apart
Death In June
And why did you say
That things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall
And fall apart?
That things shall fall
And fall and fall and fall
And fall apart?
Forwarded from Joschkavit
Ego death is what happens when we cross the abyss, and what happens above there can merely be processed by individual conciosness since its a comparison of all (like why do bad things happens to good people)