The First Testament of the Notsnhoj

This shall be the first testament of the Notsnhoj, spoken without regret. Written upon this unchanging rock, may it last forever, in word, and in truth.

One year ago, I met a girl. With quick wit upon her tongue and a charming smile, she stole my soul and locked it in a place by her side. Perhaps she did not know, or perhaps she did, but it was destined that day that only by her side, could I ever breathe again.

So I will make that trek, that will take me to the place I long to be. To seek to love and be loved, what crime is there in that? It is a route that will take me several years. For I have been displaced to a foreign land to meditate on accounting scriptures. The wisdom of Google Maps advise me that my hike will take me north-west, six thousand kilometers over land and sea.

Now that we on earth have walked the full circumference of the sun, so my heart has reached full bloom. Speak to me anymore of her goodness, and my heart would burst. Whisper to me her deficiencies, and it would overflow with longing. I love her, everything and anything. I would hold her close. And I would never let go, till the day we turn to dust.

Yet there came the day, when a single hand grasped her own. A hand that was not mine. It was a hand I would have shook, any other day. But it was a hand I despised, on that day. A day that was today, the day he grasped her hand. And so my time stands still as I watch the scene before me. I wait and I ponder this. What would I do if the imaginable comes to existence? That that white gentle hand would grow firm in his. That she would gaze into his eyes as one in love.

A hateful scene. There is nothing sweet there. I could pout, I could cry, I could pretend to be filled with joy. But whatever I do, it will not change this. That my chest would be heavier than the sinking sand. My frown would show the many years that I have not lived. It is a bitter thought, and it leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Wait for me. I am only a little away. Let me finish my trek.

Johnston

Walking by the coast, I walk with gentle Mother Nature. Father Sun shines gently upon my back, his warmth courses through my veins. Beneath me, I tread upon the sands, which gently receive my feet. I hear the waves fall gently on the shore, the sound of water searches my soul. I feel the wind surround me, gently holding me close. Then I look to the hills, with its slopes gentle on a child. The gentle grasses they welcome me, my bare feet they comfort. The trees sway gently, softly and kindly they sway. Strolling up the slope, I stroll with gentle Mother Nature. Yet gentler than these, there is one. There up upon that gentle hill, a pavilion surrounded with flowers. There is one gentler that lies within that ring. My lady, she lies within the pavilion.

There is sweet, and there is fair. There is graceful, and there is kind. My lady, she encompasses all these things. These are her, and she is more. Yet these things are a distant memory, for she has not been within my sights. I search for my lady vainly, still I seek with all my heart. Long since I last beheld her, long since her warmth became my own. Now I am as good as blind, my fingers cold, my palms unfeeling. The sight of my lady makes my heart flutter. Her absence makes me frown.

I love and it pains me, because I love too much. How I long to hold her close, to feel her in my arms. Yet just the chance to see her, would be as good as gold.

Now the world and all, awaits our reunion. Look at how the ground quakes beneath. The rivers, they rage in anger. The greater waves throw themselves against endless rock. The mountains turn in disapproval. For they know that this distance should not be. And what has been apart should be brought together. There shall be no smile on earth till our eyes meet once again. No comfort till we are held close. There shall be no justice save the moment our fingers should caress the other’s cheek. No morning sun till our breath entwines as one.

Across that distant sea, I bid you, fair lady, lie beneath that distant sky. That were the sky a great mirror, I might lie beneath mine, and gaze into your eyes. For I will see you in that sky, and I will feel your breath against my neck, for it is carried in the wind.

Notsnhoj

Tears are the only words that can now express my pain. If a leaf were to fall on me, it would crush me whole. With the same weight that a mountain crushes an elephant, so shall that leaf apply upon my head.

Exams at the REB

Deprived of sleep for many days,

In sunlit morn I started to pray.

Up stony steps I had to crawl,

I found myself inside a hall.

They forced a paper into my face,

Gave me a number to know my place.

Three clicks of the clock they kept me still,

Behind their masks I felt their thrill.

But I sense the end is coming. The end is coming near.

But I know the doors are opening. The doors are opening here.

Johnston

Non T'Amo Più

Author's note: The meaning of the words - I loved you deeply, but now I don't love you anymore.

The meaning behind this song - I don't love you anymore... Really. ........really........like really...

Ricordi ancora il dì che c'incontrammo?
Le tue promesse le ricordi ancor?
Folle d'amore io ti seguii,
ci amammo,
E accanto a te sognai,
folle d'amor.
Sognai felice di carezze a baci
Una catena dileguante in ciel;
Ma le parole tue furon mendaci
Perché l'anima tua fatta è di gel.

Te ne ricordi ancor?
Te ne ricordi ancor?
Or la mia fede, il desiderio immenso
Il mio sogno d'amor non sei più tu
I tuoi baci non cerco,
a te non penso
Sogno un altro ideal:
Non t'amo più, non t'amo più!

Nei cari giorni che passamo insieme,
io cosparsi di fiori il tuo sentier.
Tu fosti del mio cor l'unica speme,
tu della mente l'unica pensier.
Tu m'hai visto pregare, impallidire,
piangere tu m'hai visto inanzi a te.
Io, sol per appagare un tuo desire
avrei dato il mio sangue e la mia fè.

Te ne ricordi ancor?
Te ne ricordi ancor?
Or la mia fede, il desiderio immenso
Il mio sogno d'amor non sei più tu
I tuoi baci non cerco,
a te non penso
Sogno un altro ideal:
Non t'amo più, non t'amo più!

Francesco Paolo Tosti

Author's note: I was bored. And I was really bored. Attempt to read this in fake Irish or Scottish. And let it be within your hearts, to pray for me to study.

The lords are up in their fortresses,

Of great stones, tall and strong.

They are surrounded by their watchmen,

That number many a throng.

With booming voice they thunder,

As they feast just as they whore.

"The Danes, they be afearin' us,

Too scared to land on our shores."

Then one night, as silent as eerie,

We saw a light in the bay.

'twas approaching in quicker paces.

It came, just like Monday.

Before we be aknowin' it,

They were upon our lads.

They came like creepin' shadows,

Shades in leather clad.

He grasped me as I turned to run,

His hands were cold and clammy.

In his gaze I saw no meaning,

No friends, no wife, no family.

Great many things flashed by mine eyes,

Before my throat his dirk did lay.

I saw blade as it went through bone.

And bone as it went though decay.

To be acontinuin'

Notsnhoj

My Sister

We were as close as two sides of paper, with a bond of solid gold.

In anger I did abuse her. In love I did protect her.

Then one day there was this young man, he came and took my place.

Still, I did abuse her. But someone else protected her.

Then I saw the hollowness of my actions, the lack within my heart.

No longer did I abuse her. But no longer did I protect her.

The days are now stretched and long, as is the distance between us.

How I long to abuse her. How I ache to protect her.

Johnston

El Sali, The Lord Our Rock

Our Father God, El Sali, You are the Lord, our Rock. You are our great support, the bastion of our faith. You created the heavens and the earth, and we know of Your great might. Like a great rock, You stand unmoving against the tides of unrighteousness. Forever You are with us, forever we are not alone.

Father God, you are our great foundation. Because of You, we can stand firm. Because of You, we do not fear. Even in times of tribulation, we shall not fall, because You are holding onto us. And we are grateful.

Father God, we know of Your love for us. And we pray with all our hearts that You continue to hold us close to You. Keep us steadfast in the faith. Help us to never waver.

Our hearts are weak, for we are human. Given time, we easily lose sight of You, O Lord, we lose sight of what is important. Because we are faint-hearted, we fail to cling to Your instructions, and we fail to live godly lives. We deviate from the path, because of our lack of maturity. We no longer look solely at the gates of heaven, because we look at other things. We look at things of little value, and fail to focus on Your glory.

Father God, though we are weak, continue to hold us close to You. In times of our weaknesses, help to us look to You as our great foundation. Help us to focus on You.

You are the rock upon which we stand. And we shall never stumble, for You are solid ground. Though the world around us may crumble, we are safe when we stand with You. When we place our trust in You, we shall never falter. Father God, we pray with all our hearts, be our Rock, and hold us firm.

Johnston

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20

Robert Frost (1874–1963). 

the turning of a page

Let loose these feelings of dereliction. Put away that which is crushed. The earth renews itself. The moon is born again. An end is merely another beginning. Every morning is different. The story lines never cross. The plots are all ever-changing. The morals number beyond count. There is something new in everything. And everything new in somethings. The old is what is past. What has long gone will be forgotten. The pages of a book will wither. A memory never stays. There will be a new tomorrow. A light shining anew. A vision that breathes new life. A song that fills the soul. The grasses are bright and shiny. The shore fresh and cool. Drink the water that replenishes. Tastes the sweet summer berries. And be born again, renewed.

Notsnhoj

a lamentation in solitude

I hear a distant rumble,

The sky is overcast.

This world is dark and gloomy,

Where sunshine does not last.

My life is cast in shadow,

The void is my domain.

Through night and day it showers,

The bitterest of rains.

I walk the roads in blindness,

"Will no one give me light?"

I have no home to go to,

They shut me out at night.

They hurl insults and abuses,

With spite thrown at my face.

With flails of gall they scourge me,

To make me know my place.

I crawl, I run, I try to hide,

Where'er I turn, they know.

To mock me is their purpose,

I have no place to go.

I walk the moonlit doldrums,

No sound but the distant howl.

The shades too, they ignore me,

All life is naught but foul.

My sufferance exceeds the mountains.

My sky is overcast.

I curse my earthbound shadow,

Let the end come fast.

Notsnhoj

the beams that support

The clay crumbles beneath as our heavy boots scrape against the rocks. There is a long way to go as we ascend the slippery slope. Every step of the foot is a flip of the coin, every reach of the hand is a roll of the dice. We take our chances as they come. We fall when the gamble falls through. We push on, beyond all hope of turning back, yet short of the hope of standing on top. Fear is a constant, uncertainty is its foundation.

Will we ever hold the crown of victory? Are all things bleak? Do we climb for failure? Let us give up. I lack the zeal. I lack the will. Where does a Johnston stand in the grand scheme of things? Should I ever be needed? Let me rest, let me lie. Let the clouds roll by. I can live and I can die, and still the world will move around me.

As I look toward the summit, I see a hidden sun. Yet not even the mountain peak can mask its glory. The splendor of its rays reach out to the open skies. Far out and beyond, all the earth receives its warmth. My heart is filled with renewed courage. It beats again. Out of the heavens, come the ones with the same paths as mine own. Radiant with love, their faces are aglow. One goal. One vision. Their summit is none other than that of mine.

Sunbeams from heaven light our way. The light bounces off each crack and stone, surrounding me and filling me. With a palm upon my back and an arm linked in mine, I assail the ramparts. They are with me. Let none stop me! What could I have done alone? Yet now our steps are heard as one.

the heaviness of weariness

My head is heavy, my shoulders burdened. My worries weigh a ton, and my bothers bog me down. Life moves slowly along as I wade through the swamp. A swamp where I cannot see the end, and the beginning too is out of sight. This march is endless, it strains me. I am tired, my breath escapes me. Heavy. Heavy. Heavy. The load is heavy. A little more, and I would not bear. The end is never near, to hope I would not dare. How far is the road to liberty, my feet are worn and cannot hold. I struggle to move against the mud, like pushing against a stone. I move an inch by the hour, and the scenery does not change. I sigh and I pant, then I pant and I sigh. How much more do I have to go, against life’s tall obstacles. The knolls are high, and the valleys deep. The bush is thick and the roots hinder me. They trip me, and they hurt me. How long before I can lay down my jars, with burdens to the brim. Weary. Weary. Weary. My soul is weary.

Johnston

Is this a dream? Am I awake? Or merely lost in a story so torn apart by abstraction?

These days, I no longer smile the rented smile. There is only cheer in me. Like an unstoppable spring coming forth from my chest, such is my joy. It fills all the lakes of the earth, and floods the valleys. I can giggle, I can laugh, I can tap, I can dance. I can even do the whirls, but I cannot wipe this smirk off my face.

How silly I have become. Believing in the unknown, and hoping it will come true. My senses have been numbed by my absurdity. I can only see the colours of the new morning. I can only hear the songs of this enchantment. Sing to me, and let me be. My mind spends each waking moment by her side. My soul had long left me. All that is left is a mangled body hoping to do the same.

Perhaps now I understand a little more of what it means to lay heaven’s embroidered cloths before her feet. For all the riches under the sun would not suffice for the purchase of the gleam in her eye. Just let me be.

Notsnhoj

Who can restrain my unbridled heart? So full that all the deserts of the earth could not contain it.
Who can contain my rampant mind? With its endless wanderings by her side.

How I wish to embrace her very presence. To hold her hands and look into her eyes. To converse and laugh with her. To feel her joy and join in her merriment. Such fatuous thoughts! And yet, how they never cease to persist. From the morning to the evening, they torment me. But in my agony, I find sweet bliss. Who can stand against the tides of the heart? Each passing wave of emotion strikes ever stronger until we are powerless to resist!

Note that the author can neither comprehend nor fathom the very words that he writes. For his mind and his heart have never been very close associates.

And none of this makes any sense! Why should I be moved? Is it written somewhere? Perhaps in the Bible? No, there is not! Why should I have to abandon the happiness of my singularity? This is utterly unfair.

Despite that, I shall persist to the very end. Until we are old and toothless, and our hands to weak to touch.

For years I have averted my gaze. For years I have walked away. Why then do I find it so hard to do what I have done for years?

Have you heard her speak? Have you felt the merriment behind her laughter? Resist as you might, they shall fill your senses. Still you will grimace in joy. And shudder in bliss.

Is the heart weaker than the body? Do they not always say to push past your physical limits by sheer will-power alone? So how can I tell myself to hold fast against the wild winds of passion? Try as I might, my efforts are void, my strains to no avail. There is no way out of this mess. Only a path deeper into it.

How then shall I decline the longings of my heart? How can you ask me to avert my gaze? How can you tell me to walk away?