Oud Seven Matière Première 2021
7
Baldr - Gealdýr
Pffft, pffft
“Open your eyes Jan! Jaaaan! Open your damn eyes!”
I find myself amidst my comrades, completely disoriented, hearing the arrows striking the wood of the eaglewood trees surrounding us. The cries, full of hope, full of courage, yet full of pain and fear.
Unable to keep my eyes open, I drift off again, the violet leaves caressing my beard thanks to the wind in a gentle rhythm. The treetops of the eaglewood trees let, albeit only a little, the precious warm sunlight shine on my face. It smells of dark green, bitter patchouli and dry vetiver that grows and thrives by the bank of a stream. The forest welcomes my body and greets me with the sight of beautiful tree trunks from which the resin drips down the bark, as if it were crying for me.
I smell dried tobacco in the pipes of my comrades, but there is no moment suitable to light it.
With every passing minute, everything around me becomes blurrier, softer, and warmer. The sight of the forest blurs in my perception into a bed of wood, covered with warm amber blankets that catch me. Such a damn soft bed, so warm and cozy, that I almost begin to look forward to eternal sleep.
“Jaan open your eyes you idiot, the night shift is about to start you fool”
....“that damn record scratch sound”
....“a deep sigh”
.... a coffee and a last business before the business if you know...
“Open your eyes Jan! Jaaaan! Open your damn eyes!”
I find myself amidst my comrades, completely disoriented, hearing the arrows striking the wood of the eaglewood trees surrounding us. The cries, full of hope, full of courage, yet full of pain and fear.
Unable to keep my eyes open, I drift off again, the violet leaves caressing my beard thanks to the wind in a gentle rhythm. The treetops of the eaglewood trees let, albeit only a little, the precious warm sunlight shine on my face. It smells of dark green, bitter patchouli and dry vetiver that grows and thrives by the bank of a stream. The forest welcomes my body and greets me with the sight of beautiful tree trunks from which the resin drips down the bark, as if it were crying for me.
I smell dried tobacco in the pipes of my comrades, but there is no moment suitable to light it.
With every passing minute, everything around me becomes blurrier, softer, and warmer. The sight of the forest blurs in my perception into a bed of wood, covered with warm amber blankets that catch me. Such a damn soft bed, so warm and cozy, that I almost begin to look forward to eternal sleep.
“Jaan open your eyes you idiot, the night shift is about to start you fool”
....“that damn record scratch sound”
....“a deep sigh”
.... a coffee and a last business before the business if you know...
Updated on 01/08/2024
Translated · Show original
2 Comments
It reminds me of novels that I cherished in my younger years :)