Oh, yes, yes, first season’s party tonight,
Look how orchids swank, foolish airheads,
While no one asks daisies for a dance -
Sweet shy wallflowers -
While my disheveled soul is waiting
For that blessed distance, the leaves, the trees -
See, her dark furniture haunts her,
A bleak reminder of a sick life -
But you, my blessed green, you know
She longs for shield and shelter
When the bastard autumn frightens me -
My Blue and I mad as hell, no shelter tonight,
Do they fear our icy waves?
Do the fights between our angels frighten them?
Oh, we know those fights only too well:
They are our days, our time, our life -
But you, my life, please don’t run like hell
When looking at deserted rooms,
Don’t go sour if silence lives my soul,
Look, fear not, they’re waiting for you,
The grass, the flowers,
The shooting lights when lost limbs
Dirty our water at night
And leaves shout their envy at the sky -
Please, my life, let go the lost rituals for the god
Of crops and fields,
Don’t go astray among rotten seeds -
Please, my life, don’t run like hell if silence
Raids our soul with words stolen
From the danger of grass -
Let’s help our fallen days
A sham god turned into jerky comets, shall we? -
Why not, the undergrowth is shining now,
The wind our legacy and water lends you new births -
Mind, she’s got a steel trap,
So you’d better return them
When women's eyes dip into dirty waves,
And blue averts his eyes, demise jilts offers,
Wrath, questions, dusty blue clouds:
No glamour for them,
Only the hungry breaths of cicadas -
So what? Our cider we'll give to a worn-out sky?
That maze where shaking tatters got stuck:
A bit of shirking, maybe poetry, who knows?
Rebel stars, angry angels, Assassin’s Creed -
They were immortals, or so they thought -
But trust you me, once the party is over
The flowers will cross the border,
That first season’s party we call life -
Excuse me, life? Only heads shaking ‘No, no, no’
When cicadas chirp at full blast -
Their hawkish frenzy get the soul’s goat,
Stop you bloody bright frenzy - And stop it now.
The Fight of the Angels -- Daniel Pielucha
Look how orchids swank, foolish airheads,
While no one asks daisies for a dance -
Sweet shy wallflowers -
While my disheveled soul is waiting
For that blessed distance, the leaves, the trees -
See, her dark furniture haunts her,
A bleak reminder of a sick life -
But you, my blessed green, you know
She longs for shield and shelter
When the bastard autumn frightens me -
My Blue and I mad as hell, no shelter tonight,
Do they fear our icy waves?
Do the fights between our angels frighten them?
Oh, we know those fights only too well:
They are our days, our time, our life -
But you, my life, please don’t run like hell
When looking at deserted rooms,
Don’t go sour if silence lives my soul,
Look, fear not, they’re waiting for you,
The grass, the flowers,
The shooting lights when lost limbs
Dirty our water at night
And leaves shout their envy at the sky -
Please, my life, let go the lost rituals for the god
Of crops and fields,
Don’t go astray among rotten seeds -
Please, my life, don’t run like hell if silence
Raids our soul with words stolen
From the danger of grass -
Let’s help our fallen days
A sham god turned into jerky comets, shall we? -
Why not, the undergrowth is shining now,
The wind our legacy and water lends you new births -
Mind, she’s got a steel trap,
So you’d better return them
When women's eyes dip into dirty waves,
And blue averts his eyes, demise jilts offers,
Wrath, questions, dusty blue clouds:
No glamour for them,
Only the hungry breaths of cicadas -
So what? Our cider we'll give to a worn-out sky?
That maze where shaking tatters got stuck:
A bit of shirking, maybe poetry, who knows?
Rebel stars, angry angels, Assassin’s Creed -
They were immortals, or so they thought -
But trust you me, once the party is over
The flowers will cross the border,
That first season’s party we call life -
Excuse me, life? Only heads shaking ‘No, no, no’
When cicadas chirp at full blast -
Their hawkish frenzy get the soul’s goat,
Stop you bloody bright frenzy - And stop it now.
The Fight of the Angels -- Daniel Pielucha
"Nothing is an absolute reality; all is permitted." Such was the novel of "Alamut," the 1938 Slovenian novel by Vladimir Bartol. Alamut ("eagle's nest") was the impregnable fortress/capital of the the Nizari Ismaili state, a nexus of isolated strategic fortresses throughout Persia and Syria surrounded by the empire of the Seljuk Turks. Their warriors were known as the Asasiyyun ("people who are faithful to the foundation [of the faith]"), which Marco Polo mistranslated as being derived from hashish. Over 3 centuries they killed 2 kalifahs and many viziers, sultans, and Crusaders. Their name became the source of the word "assassissin." However, Alammut was fabled for its gardens, library, and laboratories where philosophers, scientists, and theologians debated in intellectual freedom. In 1256 it surrendered to the Mongols, who destroyed the library. Bartol's novel concerned the 11th-century founder of the realm Hassan-i Sabbah. The book was translated into English in 2004 by Michael Biggins. Inspired by the book, Patrice Désilets, Jade Raymond and Corey May created the video game "Assassin's creed" in 2016, in which the Assassins fight for peace via free will, against the Templars who seek peace through control. The Assassins' motto is "Nothing is true; everything is permitted," the formulation of the Asasiyyun motto by Beat writer William S. Burroughs. So far "Assassin's Creed" has spawned 10 main games, board games, art books, encyclopedias, comics, novelizations, novels, animations, and a 2016 movie starring Michael Fassbender; the video games have sold over 1000 million copies.
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