by Max Barry

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樹海詩集「森の入口」

Sea of Trees: Poetic Gateways to Aokigahara

The Entrance

At the entrance of the mountain

The short leaves of needles

Softly patter down.

Trees say

Nothing but

Look carefully.

They are prepared

To eat me up

At any moment – but still

From the bright place above

The short leaves of needles

Patter down.

Sacred Tree

Ages and ages ago,

When a woodsman tried to cut down a magnificent cedar,

But broke his arm,

Yet kept trying to cut it down

Until he threw his back out,

Yet kept trying to cut it down,

Until the blood

Began to flow from the trunk

My eyes deceive me, he thought,

You and I have both been deceived,

Or so the woodcutter believed,

And kept on cutting

Until that trunk

Was soaked in blood,

My mind’s playing tricks on me, he thought,

My mind’s playing tricks on me, he believed,

You and I

Stood there,

Soaked in blood

The Rose and the Cross
By Aleister Crowley

Out of the seething cauldron of my woes,
Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung;
Where charmèd music gathered from my tongue,
And where I chained strange archipelagoes
Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows 5
A curious bitumen; where among
The glowing medley moved the tune unsung
Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic Rose.

Its myriad petals of divided light;
Its leaves of the most radiant emerald;
Its heart of fire like rubies. At the sight
I lifted up my heart to God and called:
How shall I pluck this dream of my desire?
And lo! there shaped itself the Cross of Fire

https://youtu.be/iiwWB6QNRtU

Dont you be a laodecian lol

Owl park

https://youtu.be/wUAZ55HmG4Y

Mulberry land

Just passing by as i travel the world

Snow tiger

Mulberry land wrote:Just passing by as i travel the world

I first caught the sun at noon today
To get another 24 hours
I lept & broke my bedframe
Which the termites have devoured
I lived a life in shambles
With one idea left to scheme
But if I ever built it
Then what would I have left to dream?
Mulberry's Dream was talkin to me,
As we kickin' with time.
Burnin' in the sun on the side of the street,
We gotta be out of our minds.
Life, he said, is all about style,
And my flying machine.
And we'll take the people cross miracle miles,
And I believed him

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