[Verses by Demether; music by Eugen]
Hearings bout the devils coming spend as faster as the sunlight
It hath reached the
ancient village near the city of Avilles
There has lived the aged friar who has almost lost his eyesight
But he not dement his
reason and the power for his years
He was praying at the icon of God in the monastery
Hung on shoulder the bag with the Gospel,
and modestly
Took the verge and went toward macabre Nebelforst
That towers ruefully in the heart of Black Forest
He made the
unconspicuous grey tabernacle
On the rivage of silvan warbling brooklet...
Francis bode there peacefully (two days and one
night),
Just berrying and gazing as birds and bees flit
Francis was ware, and every crackle
As the prick of the profane
morglay
He was afraid the temptation of soul
But not that his flesh would be slain
Walking one day in the forest and banished
the drear fancies
Francis was suddenly startled He discerned a spectral silhouette
Which forthright vanished amid the trunks of the
gleamy trees,
Seemed that in the sullen wood (was performing) a magical frondages minuet
He stood unto the stool thereat the
menorah, ignified the flames
The old monk settled his mind and set to exalt the prayer to the saints
The reason was sereneed and he
plunged into the deep sleeps waves
Barely he felt formication He heard the horissonant voice
As Tartarean trump it tanged, and
the blood curdled in veins
Thou art outlander! it said O it was the atrocious noise
Francis tried to gin to pray but he leaned to
the hithermost teil
Let wit ye that my soul had embrewed with blood of thousands
My soul is so old and I hope that Jhesus sword
have found you,
All-fathers clemency aint fineless and your soul will be (as sure as fate)
Haunted by hellhounds
Let thy
flesh and blood be devoured by terrene cerastes
Dost ye want to enhalo thy caitiff soul?
Thy omnipotent deity isnt hearkeneth thy
orisons and pleas!
Nay, I mere the meek theopathic thrall!
Oh lawks, empower me this even!
Behold, I apostrophize to
you
Avaunt, the varletry of Devil!
Erebus in this wield Ive viewed
Francis, with name of God in mouth, aspersed the air,
which broke and ostended the bloodcurdling sight armoured demons were squirming and yowling; King Germanarehs standing hardily afore,
wincing at fury.
Well, you quasi have my army
But now my great suzerain citeth me
Dont think that your god is mightier
him
SIX LUCEAT LUX!
In the same flash of time all is perished...
My faith won despite that my word was
despisable,
Oh God, why, his thersitical orations were so damnable
That I couldnt listen them, my heart was cowered by awe
The
evil was permeating into my forworn reason more
Dei gratia I have prevailed this horrendous fiend!
[Awakening of Newborn
Light]
Francis took his belongings, left the loafs crumbs for squirrels, sained himself and went out.
Next morrow he saw an
auroral dawn
And his martyred soul began to moan
(That many slain people wouldnt see it)
Yes, blackened evil took their
souls
But I believe that Love is law in our world
(And beauty of this planet shall not wilt)
He knocked in the soil
At the
marge of the wood
The blest timbered cross
Which put out the roots...
And well return into the rood!
After several
years the marvelous oak grown there, its vast branches shielded the grassy path to the fragrant pine forest. Every man may rest in the
shade of this magnificent tree. If you stare intently to the bottom of the trunk, you may decipher a small cross, etched in the bark by
ones ungraspable design, and nothing can abolish it, nor the time, men or natural elements.
Already three hundred years peace and
tranquility are reigning there. No animated being is frightened of ancient nighted horror, but the legend lives on the mouth of local
inhabitants.
