Poems, Songs and Prayers
Poems, Songs and Prayers
In their acceptance of the life condition as god-decreed, the Llhuroscians seem impassive, yet in their poems, songs and prayers they appear to have been a people sensitively aware of their impulses, follies, inhibitions, weaknesses, and dilemmas. They burnt many texts into leather sheaths called senberiens which were worn as amulets or placed within the hollow interiors of votive objects. Texts were also carved into stone walls of temples and casinos. Fifteen survive.
46 / Home Votive Shrine in Two Parts
One of the earliest senberiens, found in this object, was dedicated to the joint deities Tal-Hax and Shor-Noo. The elderly supplicant was most likely a gatherer who followed the lunar calendar.
Old Man’s Prayer
The moon has passed, cold and low
And it is time again to ask you
My God to plead for me.
Go to your God and tell him thus:
My food is scarce and has no taste.
My son is small and weak.
My woman is cold and old.
My eyes do not carry far and away.
All this cannot be changed;
Tal-Hax, this I know.
Tal-Hax tell Great Shor-Noo
Change what is good for me.
Let the berry-bush bow low, the nets full.
Make my son stand in danger, not too long.
Let my woman loosen her hair about me.
When the Last Dark comes, let me see without a fire.
Do this, Tal-Hax, and I will not fail
To plant fishbones in neat regular mounds
Over turtle-shells filled with black and white stones
When the moon comes again, high or low.
Phillip Ewing-Kershaw, Legends of the Pilkug People.
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw.
A.6 / Pair of Minor Deities
This votive depicts the minor gods, Eleon and Pluora, whose love story was a legend among the Llhuroscian people. This tiny senberien song was discovered concealed within the Eleon figure.
Pilkug Love Song
If you want me
As I want you,
You would let me die
Under a petal of your rose
And you would bury me
In the lobe of your ear.
[Legends]
Listen
0:00—
Translation and recitation by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw
19 / PETROGPLYPH WITH STILT-WALKER
This detail of the petroglyph shows a line of Llhuroscian cuneiform. The enlargement shows the earliest extant image of a stilt-walker, as well as a translated axiom of the people of Vanibo.
The Good Pilgrim
It is not easy to carry a bird on your head.
Especially when it is a big,
Big bird,
With its huge wings flopping.
It probably would be easier
If its wings were flapping.
But then, the bird would be
Flying, whereas
I am carrying the bird. Or so it seems
That I am carrying the bird.
But maybe the bird is
Carrying me. oh, Oh,
Its talons dig into my ceremonial wig
And almost into my head.
It would be much easier if
I were not on sacred stilts:
That makes it more difficult.
But we do not expect the way to
Akaslu to be without
Discomfort or pain.
We know our sins
Are less when the pilgrimage is
Not a lark. This one is not easy.
It is not a lark. It is a good pilgrimage.
I believe I am a good pilgrim.
Nils Schilaneder, Lebende Symbole der Llhuroschen Kunst und Kultur.
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Nils Schilaneder.
73 / ARKPHOR OF THE SHRINE OF MALMUS (Temple Votive)
The votive to which this senberien was affixed, was used by a small sect of the Malmusians whose chief rites concerned insobriety, lunar worship and animal sacrifice
In a Sacred Fog
In a sacred fog the living things
Outline themselves,
Tense in dancing grief against the
Bright sounds and sudden smells of the Night silence.
Beyond the sleeping camp
Hunters encircle the spindling bones,
Anointed by smoking wines and
Shaken in coiled rhythms.
Inviting me to take the emptiness of
Cool feathers and drink the
Thick, orange blood, the
White eyes of the goat
Burn through fumes of lust—
A lust
Hooked in blue darkness,
Spiraling down, down
Onto the bed of stone leaves.
The blood on its horns binds me
To a promise understood in wonderment,
And the uncovered moon
Wets me in an angry glare
Like a shrill warning,
Commanding that I pierce
The soft throat.
[Lebende Symbole]
Listen
0:00—
Translation and recitation by Nils Schilaneder
85 / SECTION OF INNER WALL OF TEMPLE OF PHALLOS AT TROLYDOS (Dedicated to Aar-Tenn)
Detail from thirty-seven-foot wall section showing one priest from of a long procession of high priests astride ceremonial stilts, who are thought to have chanted this prayer in unison.
Temple Prayer to Aar-Tenn
Sacred god-bird, oh Aar-Tenn, hear me.
Your body is round and smooth
With stiff, red, soft feathers.
You feed in quick, cruel strokes.
You feast in wet, dark caves.
When you die, your stretched wings fold.
Oh Feeder-Devourer, lean or full
Give me one magic gift, I implore.
Give my body great wings.
Let my hunger be satisfied.
Let me carve fast and long.
Let me live to die often.
Let me, like you, find life by dying.
Hear me, hear me, Son-Father,
Oh Sacred Aar-Tenn, oh Bird of Life.
[Lebende Symbole]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Nils Schilaneder
7 / PAIR OF FORNICATING GODS (Votive with Senberien)
The hollow interior of this votive contained a senberien on which was inscribed a love poem.
Shisun, Make Me One with Thee
Shisun, make me one with thee.
Let the sinews of my loins
Measure the beat of
Your dripping ardour.
Oh, oh
Make a net of your hair,
That I not drown in your arms.
[Lebende Symbole]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Nils Schilaneder
9 / VOTIVE FIGURE
Professor Nils Schilaneder, in his translation of the senberien, writes that the “syreek” was a wolf-like animal and the “tonzit” resembled a tiger.
Song of the Young Warrior
I am brave.
Yes, brave indeed.
Others wear the teeth of the syreek.
Only I wear the teeth of the tonzit.
Others row with the white waters.
Only I swim against the white waters.
I am brave.
Yes, brave indeed.
[Lebende Symbole]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Nils Schilaneder
31 / VOTIVE
Translated senberiens, such as this one, give us insights into the tribal lives of the early people of Llhuros. This one found in the stylized recumbent figure forms of this votive was a song sung by an unmarried woman of the Pilkug group.
Offer Me a Shroud
Offer me a shroud
And weep for me.
I cannot die
Yet I am entombed
By tears because
I am not free
To make a bed of boughs
And wait at night for
My Hunter to stab me.
I pretend to fight.
He has a dagger.
I want to be stabbed:
His weight crushes
The breath out of me.
Afterwards, I rest
As though I were still in
My mother’s body.
Holding his twin soft stones,
I listen to his noisy sleep.
[Legends]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw.
91 / FRAGMENT OF WALL PAINTING
Fresco fragment from the Temple of Phallos at Trolydos showing an erotic image of the principle god, Aar-Tenn. A priest or ordinary supplicant may have offered such a prayer to ward off impotence.
Hear Me, Hear Me
Hear me, hear me
I beseech, Oh sacred Tenn,
Oh bird of life.
Inform, guard, and guide me.
Pulsing, firm, and upright,
Eager to fly in binding space,
To reel, plunge, swoop and dart,
You carve swiftly in dark tunnels.
Your body, red feathers,
Yet cool with impatient single aim,
Must slacken and fold slowly,
if it is to feed and live.
Is it only in channeled passage
You enjoy your thousand flights
As you feast in dark halls
hung with colored fluttering banners?
Fed in palsied labored gesture,
Given in irrevocable convulsions,
Each morsel of palpable nourishment
Brings us death, again and again.
Bartholomew Black, The Priest in the Llhuroscian World.
Listen
0:00—
Translation by Bartholomew Black, Recitation by Norman Daly
33 / FUNEREAL HERO
This figure, dated from the Archaic period, was used by the Pilkug tribesmen in their annual hero celebrations. The elders of the tribe performed as mourners and the elective role of the dead war hero was awarded to the finest hunter-athlete of the tribe.
Harp Song from the Pilkug Funeral Ceremony for a Hero
MOURNERS:
We remember, yes we remember well,
Your strength.
But the darkness cannot
Be crushed even with
Thighs as mighty as yours.
DEAD WAR HERO:
Do not wet your face
With memories of me.
I had no choice.
You would have done the same.
MOURNERS:
We remember, yes we remember well
Your steadfastness.
But water cannot
Be kept from dripping
When the thirsty man
Has only his cupped hand.
[text lacking]
We know we cannot rest
Until your name is sung
From morning to night.
We will neither feed nor wine ourselves
On this unhappy day each year.
[Legends]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and read by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw.
38 / VOTIVE FIGURE
“Sayhaitu” was a surprise assortment of her husband’s favorite desserts. His sighting of the cook’s breath in the steamy preparation of the sweetmeats acted as a stimulant to his appetites.
Evening Song of the Wise Wife
The cloud of my breath:
Our “sayhhaitu” is ready to eat.
The cloud of my breath:
My crying baby smiles.
The cloud of my breath:
My anxious husband relaxes.
The cloud of my breath:
The rainbow flowers in our bed.
[Lebende Symbole]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and recited by Nils Schilaneder.
57 / VOTIVE FIGURE
Philip Ewing-Kershaw, who translated the senberien, believes the impaled torsion of the icon echoes the traumatic experience which was demanded of every eldest son of the Pilkug group.
Recitative Given After the Eldest Son Has Drowned His Parents
I feel weak as though I were a woman.
No, you are a strong man.
They hid behind a snow bank.
You have hunter’s eyes.
My father did not cry out.
You are like him.
My mother covered her eyes.
It makes no difference
Neither fought as I dragged them into the water.
They knew the laws.
My mother sank first.
She was eager to be home.
My father took a full breath.
He was a warrior.
I had to hold his head down until my arms were tired.
He was a strong man.
[Legends]
Listen
0:00—
Translated and recited by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw
79 / MINIATURE VERSION OF A PRIE-DIEU
The small stylized figure encased at the bottom of the elongated arch recalls the position occupied by the supplicant in offering prayers at secular sites. One of the prayers found within the votive is addressed to the compassionate god, Tal-Hax.
Oh, Tal-Hax
Oh, Tal-Hax, would you interpret these obscure words
slashed by foreign alphabets,
those magic omens swept up in the dust of solitude?
Oh, Tal-Hax, will you touch
the mirrors of my mind and give shelter
to these silken wings broken on the tiny days of rain?
Oh, Tal-Hax, will you fret wind-tracks for new signals of my escape
or am I transfixed in the tragic yellow of layered Time?
Oh, Tal-Hax, must you string unsummoned galaxies of remorse,
polished beads of regret into an untarnishable scapular
to be worn on the thorax of my thoughts?
Ah, Tal-Hax, do you hear the torrential sighs of the hungry blind
the laughing pleas of the desperate, young beggars?
Tal-Hax, Tal-Hax, oh, Sacred One
give substance to all these transparent people
of martyred shadows and put to rest
the remains of all my insomniac memories.
Sir Adrian Hartley Cruikshank, Elements of Llhuroscian Literature.
Listen
0:00—
Translated by Sir Adrian Cruikshank, read by Nils Schilaneder.
111 / FACSIMILE OF WALL PAINTING
This mural of male celebrant standing in a temple door, was found in the gaming room of the tyrant Kai Preiden. The text was painted on an adjacent wall. Cruickshank notes that it is not difficult to associate the strident tones of imploring, abject masochism and the gloating reference to ritualistic fellatio with the subject matter of the mural.
Master Scourge
Deform all my desires.
Disfigure all my flesh.
Yet I press my mouth
On Your Offering.
Stamp my heart to the ground,
Oh, Master Scourge.
I am one with You when
Your Curse is spat upon me.
[Llhuroscian Literature]
Listen
0:00—
Translated by Sir Adrian Cruikshank, read by Phillip Ewing-Kershaw
120 / METOPE FROM TEMPLE ATRAXOS
The following prayer was found inscribed on the west wall of the Temple of Atraxos dedicated to the bird god Aar-Tenn, one of the oldest and most revered deities in the Llhuroscian pantheon.
Eskhaat’s Prayer to Aar-Tenn
Oh, Aar-Tenn, great Bird God,
I, Eskhaat, the devout priest of this
Your temple, have disturbed the rest of
The Airy Ones, the sacred ronpum, alas!
Oh, Aar-Tenn, this is the truth
I swear as the leaf of the nardic bush is blue
And the eye of the sacred ronpum is red.
I swear it happened as I say:
Lost as I was in the concern of
The Common and in good thought,
I never saw the ronpum,
Roosting high up in the smoky,
Still shadows of the temple’s sky.
As I raised my tired, old arms and
Sounded the great temple gongs,
They flew away in a wave I felt—
A wave that opened and closed in
Patterns certain, simple, and graceful.
The way, great Bird God, Aar-Tenn, alas,
my holy life has never been.
[Llhuroscian Literature]
Listen
0:00—
Translated by by Sir Adrian Hartley Cruikshank, read by Nils Schilaneder.
Total Page Visits: 409
