Saturday, July 27, 2013

Goddess Danu

Goddess Danu
Life giver
Where Ocean meets land,
The Kiss of the salt air.
Queen of Spring.
Queen of Fertility.
The shinning jewel of Ireland.
I am enveloped in your mist,
your loving embrace a child coming,
happily home.
                                             Danu is the oldest Celtic Goddess known in Celtic times, her
influence spread far across the
British Isles and Europe, where the Danube River was named after her. There were even fewer stories that were told about Danu and how she had survived.
Yet the reverence in which she was held still remains.
It is told that those who worshipped her, the Tuatha de Danaan - the children of Danu retreated into
the hollow hills of Ireland when Christianity overcame into the oldways.
They, became immortal, in the hollow hills of old Ireland and the fairy folk and Danu's legend lives on as the Goddess of the fairies which lives on to this day.
Danu is the power that is in the land that never is to be over comed by mortals and her power is in the imagination of those who see magic in the twilight's mists between the two worlds-
"I am the force that turns the flower to the sun"

Danu is the Mother of Irish Gods, Link to the Goddess Don of Wales. Her tribe is the first of May.
The Tuaththa De' Danann battle the Fir Bolg, and eventually won an uneasy peace. In their turn the
Tuatha De' Danann were displaced by the mortal Milesians and retreated to the hollow hills, to become the fairy folk. The coming of the Milesians is likely Mythologizing of the christian conversion of the Isle that outside the pagan Gods and Goddess.
Danu is a Goddess of fertility and plentifully and there is evidence that the river
Danube is named after her.
A mother of the faeries, she is close to the land of the rivers too.
This is one of my favorite Goddess simply because that she is connected to the land of the faeries and is the mother of the faeries too. I love this goddess simply because she is the power that is the land that never is to be over comed by mortals and her power is in the imagination of those who see magick in the
twilight in the mists between the two worlds of the Fae and Ireland.
Goddess Danu
I hope you will find the Goddess Danu in your dreams and in the hills of your own backyard as I have..The Goddess Danu as the Mother of the faeries lives everywhere..
I truly believe that she lives on in our hearts and in the faeries that are still her force that make her a powerful goddess.
Wendy


Sunday, July 21, 2013

Drow Art

Drow Art
The images below are different Interpretations
of the Media of Drow Art. All are in the form
of paintings, photographic photo-shop, digital painting
and other Media. Many are from Talented Artist...
Thank you to all the talented Artist who have created all these
beautiful images for all of us to Enjoy... 
These are not my art works...
 Drow Art 

 Drow Art 

Drow Art


Drow Art

 Drow Art
Drow Art  

Drow Art 

 Drow Art 

 Drow Art 

 Drow Art 

Drow Art  
 Drow Art

Drow Art 

Drow Art  


Drow Art
Drow Art
Drow Art
Drow Art

I hope that you all Enjoyed the Images of the Drow Art.
These are amazing artist that love the world of the Drow
And I hope that You Enjoy the amazing works of these
few arts that I found ...





A Dragon's Tail

                               A Dragon's Tail

Far above the village square, in hills that rise beyond

Deep inside a darkened lair, there lay a magic wand.
It lain upon a hardened rock for many of a year,
Its owner was the last known man to ever visit here.

For centuries it had been told, a dragon lay in sleep,
And some night soon, in light of the moon, towards the town he'd creep,
Bringing mass destruction and endless countess,
count of death.
                                                          A yellow green in eyes so mean, a scorching fiery breath.

                                                           Well, as with many legends, it is made from lies and fact,  
                                                         There is indeed a dragon here but scorching breath he lacked,
                                                           He knew he could do many things whenever that he chose,
                                                         But as for fire, he could at best blow smoke rings through his nose

                                                         His eyes were not mean, just dragon green and somehow kinda sad,
                                                            Resulting from his loneliness and all the sleep headiness.
                                                          He yawned a mighty yawn, then slowly rolled onto the floor,
                                                    He flicked his tail and stretched his limb's , his body still quite sore
                                                     To sleep a thousand years while in the darkness and the damp,
                                                       Can leave you feeling groggy, and an awful lot of cramp.
                                               He made his way towards the daylight,
                                                rubbing at his head.
                                                    An early morning migraine made him wish he'd stay in bed.
                                                       But as he reached the entrance, he saw a silken gown,
                                                     wrapped around some bones that lay upon the stony ground. 
                                                       And over there not far away, he saw a funny stick.


                                                     It seemed to sparkle inside and out,
                                                     or was it just a trick.
                                                    He rubbed his eyes to realize what he saw was true,
                                                           With captive stare he pondered on the next thing  he should do,
                                                         He slowly moved toward it as the stick began to rise,
                                                     It turned and pointed at him.
                                                     Looking straight between the eyes.
                                                   Aware of what was happening, he then pulled away 
his stare.
                                                 His nose began to twitch for there as magick in the air.

                                                          A bolt of lightening flashed his way, he leaped across the floor.
                                                        He turned to face a burning smell, from what he wasn't sure.

                                                     He saw a sight, that caused a fright, much more
                                                than he first feared,
                                                      His rear end smoking badly and his tail had disappeared.
                                                      His big green eyes grew bigger, as the truth began to tell,

                                                  Left with half his body and a funny kinda smell.
                                                He screamed a scream unheard before, part pain but mostly fright.
                                               His howling heaves had ripped the leaves of every tree in sight outside
                                                     of the cave.
                                             The cave began to shudder and the rocks inside began to fall. 
                                            The dragon whimpered bad to face the horror of it all.

                                       The daylight lost as half the roof of his cave had fallen onto the floor.
                                   The wand was crushed and buried,
                                  And the entrance to the lair was no more.
                               The rocks had enclosed the dragon in a tomb
                            that was his own lair.
                                  Across the town the howling was heard,
                                           but no-one was really quite sure what it was or where it was coming from.
                                      It didn't sound like a dragon, for dragons only roar very loud.
                                    Apparently, I guess its an fact, it sort of lacked a punch of terror,
                               in the voice of the dragon,
                              And was more of a wail.
                                 But no-one's ever heard what a dragons sounds like when he looses his tail.
                     For years to be, a mystery was wrapped around to this day,
                               Many stories were passed down through the centuries, while others couldn't say.
                           From made up tales, to fantasies, no-one will ever know.

                           Just what they heard or what occurred that day so very long ago.
                              The legend of the dragon is still talked about the same, 
                               A monster from the deepest hell, a devil with no name.
                                    Not far away, in bed he lay, returning to his sleep,
                                   his pride and fears a thousands years this time he has to keep. 
                                   But when he wakes, he hopes to find his body not in pain,
                                no magic waiting for him, and his beautiful tail grown back again. 

                                        He snores a Dragons snore deep back in the blacken cave, his body safely
inside his lair.
                                In time he'll get another chance, his tail will also grow.
That's the thing about dragons.
                                   It is something that he'll dream about until that day he awakes.
                    For one thing this dragon has forgot, 
                  He is the MAGIC
unknown author

 










Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Gothic Art1

Gothic Art
The images below are different interpretations
of the Media Gothic Art. All are in the form of paintings,
photographic photo-shop, digital painting and other Media.
Many are from Talented Artist... Thank you to all the talented
Gothic ART
 Gothic Art
Gothic Art 
Artist who have created all these beautiful images for all of us to Enjoy...
Gothic  Art 
 Gothic Art
Red Gothic Art
Gothic Art
Gothic Art 
Gothic Art
Gothic Art
Gothic Art 
Gothic Art
Gothic Art 
Gothic art
 Gothic Art












Saturday, July 6, 2013

The Legend of the Lorelei

The Legend of the Lorelei-
This is the legend of the Lorelei, a German tale of a maiden who sits on a rock high above the water, only to
be seen at night. As the old story goes, the Lorelei was a maiden of a wondrous beauty who lived in the Rhine river. All day she would hide in the river so that no one could see her, but when night came she would climb to a high rock where she could be seen in the moonlight by all who passed by the river. There she would sit and sing, combing her beautiful golden hair.
This curious maiden had a wonderful power over all who listened to
her sweet singing. The shipmen and fishermen were so enchanted by her wondrous  songs that they forgot to guide their boats, ships which would drifted about and were finally dashed to pieces on the rocks below the Lorelei. So many ere lost while listening to her songs, that a band of soldiers were sent to carry her off to the darkness. But when the soldiers neared the rock where the Lorelei sat singing he sad sweet melodies, they too were spellbound and could not move either. While the soldiers stood there, held by her magic spell, the Lorelei took off her sparking jewels and threw them into the river which began to rise. When the water had reached the top of the great rock, where she was standing, she jumped into a green chariot drawn by horses with white manes and vanished from the sight of the wondering soldiers who had come to seize her. The water flowed back where it had been:
The magic spell was broken: the river Rhine flowed on peacefully as before.
This is one version of the legend of the Lorelei of Germany...
Another tale version of the Lorelei-
The Lorelei had one Knight that she loved best. He wanted to go to the war to win honor and glory for her sake. She begged him not to go. but he was determined to do so. A long time passed. No word came from the knight, and the maiden was very unhappy.
The people declared she had caused so many to be lost in the river by her wondrous singing that they brought her before the Magistrate. She flung herself at his feet and begged to die, for she loved the knight who had gone away.
The Magistrate listened to her story, and bade two knights take her to a convent where she would never be trouble anymore.
They crossed the river, and drew near a huge rock, which the Lorelei asked leave to climb and take a last look at her home.
The knights consented. As she reached the top of the rock, a ship came in sight. In it stood a knight, clad in complete armour. At once the maiden saw it was the knight who had gone to war and whom she mourned as dead. With joy she called to the knight as he stood in his ship far below her. He heard her wondrous voice calling to him, and paid no heed to his ship, which a carried swiftly away by the strong current of the river.
This was the end of the second version of the Lorelei-

There is a statue of the Lorelei that sits across the Rhine from the Sankt Goarshausen and soars some
120meters  above the water line. After leaving Switzerland, the Rhine is at its narrowest and swiftest here. A very strong current and rocks below the waterline have caused many boat accidents. So the stretch is considered very dangerous for ships/boats until modern times too! On this rock is a huge erotic Lorelei Statue...











These legends date back to the 1200's and have many other versions of the Lorelei...
Heinrich Heine wrote a song about his famous maiden in 1822-
Heine's Lorelei Song~ Original version German
lch weiBB nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
DaBB ich so traurig bin,
Ein Marchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das Kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Die Luft ist kuhl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig flieBBt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt,
lm Abendsonnenschein.

Die schonste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
lhr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie Kammt ihr goldenes Hagr,
Sie Kammt es mit goldenem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt' ge Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe,
Erqreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er Schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er Schaut nur hinauf in die Hoh'.
lch glaube,die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen,
Die Loreley getan

Note; I did the best I could on the translation for  the German language on this Poem I hope that I did OK
that most can read the poem. Enjoy Wendy.
















English.....

Heine's Lorelei's Song-
I don't know what it may mean
That I am so sad;
A Tale from ancient times
I cannot get out of my mind.

The air is cool and twilight is falling
and the Rhine is flowing quietly by,
The top of the mountain is glittering
in the evening sun.

The loveliest maiden is sifting
up there, wondrous to tell,
Her golden jewelry sparkles
as she combs her golden hair.

She combs it with a golden comb
and sings a song as she does,
A song with a peculiar,
Powerful melody.

It seizes the boatman in his small boat
with unrestrained woe.
He does not look below to the rocky shoals
He only looks up at he heights.
The Lorelei

 The Lorelei 


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