Print September 30, 2012 4 comments
After the Avatar, 1945
A Sonnet for Savitri Devi on her 107th Birthday
Our holy sun shouldn’t shine anymore.
There is nothing left to grow beneath now.
All is gone, blasted, shot, burnt. All our pure
Beauty, our sure truths, lost. We endure. How
And why are beyond us, we simply live.
What else is there for us to do? We are
Not dead though all we love is dead. Forgive
Us for not rejoicing in the warm air,
For not embracing the light we once rose
To salute. It is too late for more dawns,
We do not care to see new days. Gallows
Dance before our eyes, while open graves yawn.
We half wish to hang and fall, to be done,
Buried . . . away from our traitorous sun.
Remembering Oswald Spengler (May 29, 1880-May 8, 1936)
Remembering Louis-Ferdinand Céline (May 27, 1894–July 1, 1961)
Remembering Richard Wagner (May 22, 1813-February 13, 1883)
Remembering Dominique Venner (April 16, 1935–May 21, 2013)
Remembering Julius Evola (May 19, 1898–June 11, 1974)
Remembering Edward Gibbon
Remembering Sam Francis (April 29, 1947–February 15, 2005)
Earth Day Special
In Norse mythology, the sun is regarded as feminine.
She has not gone out if she lives on in her books.
One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. A quote by our pal Nietzsche.
Beautifully written. To be read in war-torn ruins.
Wonderful. Thank you Juleigh!
Sad and beautiful.
However, Arya, the Aryan spirit, is alive still! There are those who wholeheartedly embrace her principles and glorify her lovingly.
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