smokingboot (
smokingboot) wrote2004-08-26 03:11 pm
Lycanthropy cures Yoga
For those to whom Lycanthropy is preferable to tying one's spine in a knot, here is a Russian charm to invoke the moon goddess and become a werewolf.
It may also (who knows?) work for shamen, poets, dreamers and nutters who want to send old style magic to our local lupines, made extinct long ago though their voices can still be heard over the wilds of the island...
"On the sea, on the ocean, on the island, on Bujan, on the empty pasture gleams the moon, on an ashstock lying in a green wood, in a gloomy vale. Toward the stock wandereth a shaggy wolf, horned cattle seeking for his sharp white fangs; but the wolf enters not the forest, but the wolf dives not into the shadowy vale.
Moon, moon, gold-horned moon, check the flights of bullets, blunt the hunters' knives, break the shepherds' cudgels, cast wild fear upon all cattle, on men, on all creeping things, that they may not catch the gray wolf, that they may not rend his warm skin! My word is binding, more binding than sleep, more binding than the promise of a hero."
P.S. To those who wonder if I am going to write any sense at all this week, I say; 'Owooowooowooooowooooow.'
P.P.S. Do not copy my evil example above. Apparently, wolves in human infested areas copy the noises made by new age wannabees and don't learn how to howl in proper wolfish fashion. Besides. Human howls just sound naff.
It may also (who knows?) work for shamen, poets, dreamers and nutters who want to send old style magic to our local lupines, made extinct long ago though their voices can still be heard over the wilds of the island...
"On the sea, on the ocean, on the island, on Bujan, on the empty pasture gleams the moon, on an ashstock lying in a green wood, in a gloomy vale. Toward the stock wandereth a shaggy wolf, horned cattle seeking for his sharp white fangs; but the wolf enters not the forest, but the wolf dives not into the shadowy vale.
Moon, moon, gold-horned moon, check the flights of bullets, blunt the hunters' knives, break the shepherds' cudgels, cast wild fear upon all cattle, on men, on all creeping things, that they may not catch the gray wolf, that they may not rend his warm skin! My word is binding, more binding than sleep, more binding than the promise of a hero."
P.S. To those who wonder if I am going to write any sense at all this week, I say; 'Owooowooowooooowooooow.'
P.P.S. Do not copy my evil example above. Apparently, wolves in human infested areas copy the noises made by new age wannabees and don't learn how to howl in proper wolfish fashion. Besides. Human howls just sound naff.