BURZUM - Filosofem
Stories
Creeping and crawling, rustling and fluttering.
There are two natural lights in this world, the sun and the moon. The first distorts the appearance of the other, often until it is unrecognizable. The sun gives us colour, warmth and clarity, while the moon gives us no colour, coldness and unclarity. We live in the sunlight, and we make artificial sunlight, after Arvakr and Alsvinnr, send by Sol, have drawn down the sun in sea in the West, because we like colour, warmth and clarity. The starting-point of our reality lies in this light; when Naglfaris' wife , Night, comes, our world disappears in a certain way. She is illuminated by a light, that we don't like, the colourless, cold and indistinct moonlight. Strange beings show themselves in the woods and the people draw back into their reliable, small houses. Out there, only the forces of darkness reign, yes, in the most true meaning of the word. The world becomes a total different one, for some the world becomes a place worth living. For those, who want to challenge these giants, who are brought to us by the moon in the shape of uncontrollable powers of nature, the world finally becomes a place really worth living in.
The water-spirit, like a white horse.
A long time ago, in the time of the beginning, there was a power, that gave life and peace to everything, that grew and lived around it. This power existed in the entire North in small vegetation and lakes, and it always got something in return for the power, that it emanated on the surroundings. This power was strengthened by animal sacrifices, fallen warriors and their pride, boats, that people had won after a battle with others, and every year a priestess was sacrificed to it, and also some slaves. It was strong, and as a result, it's surroundings and those, who lived there, became stronger, they grew and flourished. But suddenly the power got no more sacrifices, the people got infected by a spiritual plague, that took their knowledge and wisdom; their ancient knowledge sank deep into their sub-consciousness. The power faded and drew itself back, deep into the abyss of dying small brooks and lakes in the North. Still, it exists there, at the bottom of these cold and dark waters. At some places, it doesn't exist anymore, expelled by the stupidity and mistrust. At some other places, it still exists. When it's night, the power lures animals and people, because we should strengthen it again, so the surroundings become as vivid again as they used to be, so we can live in fortune and prosperity again, as we used to.
The sea-ghost.
When you go to the most remote isles close to the sea out of the Norwegian coasts, you can see the old Norwegian leaders, who were lost at sea a long, long time ago. Even now they sail there outside, and when the wind is strong, you can often see their floating graves, that pop up out of the waves, and disappear again between the waves. You will notice their sad expression, and their intense longing. A lot of them are already sailing for about thousand years out there, sailing in search for a harbor, where they can cast anchor, a harbor, that welcomes them with open arms... They are still looking for a friendly harbor, but not once their own harbor had let them in; they were betrayed by their descendants, betrayed by their own children. I wonder, how long will they have to search, these betrayed men - our proud ancestors - until they find a harbor, where they can land, a harbor, who will welcome them and their old burden with open arms? For how long?
Mouse town.
Together with the spiritual pestilence of the South, something also came, that killed courage and honour. The light, how the pestilence was called, troubled countless men and women, forced them, to die in their beds, not seldom of death by age. Men, who could have won fame and honour by a meaningful death on the battlefield, often had to die of weakness of age. The forces of darkness were therefore to be exterminated, war was a sin and no man dares to kill another. There was peace, but no true peace, because this peace cost the people more energy than every war could have. An eternal peace is no peace, it is the differences which create energy. The light didn't warm them, it burned them; the light didn't let them see, it blinded them; the light sucked all energy out of them and they died after a long, honourless life in bed. The light brought them peace, god's peace, pure hell! (written sometime in the future)
Twelve men in the woods.
In the Norwegian woods a community of superior people, twelve of them, who were cast away by the people through deceit and because of their belief were made lawless. They travel around, accommodate the superior people from far away at the coast of Norway, and wait for the honour and pride of the people - their chief - to return. All the way at the horizon you can see them coming, jumping and frisking, to make the lower people human again. He saw a blaze in the Northern sky, a light so true as the deceit of the Christian people. All the way out on the Northern-Road there are some, in who's perceptibility he didn't disappear. We lighted a blaze in the Northern sky, strong enough, that they have seen them all. Thirteen Aegis gathered on the Plain of Ideas: Wotan and twelve of his sons - Forseti, Widar, Njord, Frey, Donar, Tyr, Heimdall, Bragi, Wali, Ull, Hoenir and Loki. They lead and reign well.
Lyrics
Jesus' death
A figure laid on the groundSo malicious, that the flowers around him withered
A dark soul laid on the ground
So cold, that all water changed into ice
A shadow fell over the woods
As the figure's soul withered towards it
Because the figure's soul was a shadow
A shadow of the forces of evil
Tour around the transcendental columns of singularity
"The well of the region is no longer a dark depth, in which we stare, but a living stream, that fertilely flows through the lands of the North. Yes, to the highest visions of essence, this life can now elevate itself into development of it's true power and particularity, elevated to the father of all, who is up high in Valhalla, to him, the true god..."(Johan Sebastian Cammermeyer Welhaven)
I apologize for any errors, but note that my native language is Dutch.
Greve Drake fra Goddess Of Desire (G.O.D.)
e9323@mimas.hts.hsa.nl
grdrake@worldaccess.nl
Metal to the Metals!!!
..only dead people are cool...
All lyrics and stories were written/presented by Varg Vikernes, translated by Greve Drake. Editing and HTML-conversion by Lord Kittenslayer.
