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