Der Priester der Krähen

To paraphrase Star-Trek:
You've never read Greville and the Tombstones until you have read it in German.

The wonderful @tellthee, who I am lucky to call a friend, has translated into German my work The Priest of Crows









I truly believe the German language versions of my works add a special dimension to the meaning of them.

And of course, the translation means that German fans of the band can more easily enjoy Greville and the Tombstones.

I love that my words are translated here.

 

Artwork by Jeanie Laub

I am very lucky to know some amazing people through this blog. One of those is the talented artist Jeanie Laub, living in Edinburgh.

I've appreciated Jeanie's art for some time, attending her gallery exhibitions, and I was terribly nervous when we finally met this year. I barely uttered a word!

Jeanie has unveiled a work which incorporates my poetry (an excerpt from Seven Deadly Sorrows).

It was unexpected and I am utterly thrilled. I am incredibly touched and love the piece very much.

Although I cannot tell how much of the drawing was inspired by me, each of the beautiful elements in the artwork resonate in me. I feel that it captures something of me, a feeling both disorientating and wonderful.

I hope one day to be able to visit it when exhibited.

I hope Jeanie won't mind me sharing it here for admirers of the band.

Never in my life thought I would inspire art. I will be forever grateful to Jeanie that I have.

 

 

 

 

The Priest of Crows

This is:

The Priest of Crows

Won’t someone rid me

of this

black feathered smoke which

haunts around my bones,

Skulks on my gallows

I have only a little life, after all

Ribcage kirk congregation

Gather

Dead risen, gnashing teeth

Shimmering oyster shells,

Hymns a wail of woes

I want to peck out all the souls

I cannot peck out all the souls

I cannot taste my own.

I am a priest of crows

I call out “blood, your blood!”

To you

Cry out gutturally to you

Murder cold winds howl

Sermon driven low

I’ll set my wings wide on the sky

Wilfully

May my light reach thee:

My trembling words reach thee!

As grieving craws

I want to save all the souls

I cannot save all the souls

I cannot save my own

I want to heal all the souls

I cannot heal all the souls

Scratched is my own

I can no longer hear your prayers

I will no longer hear your prayers

I want to absolve all your sins.

My forgiveness cannot grow

Down a path you chose.

I am a priest of crows

Won’t someone take me

Off this

Gibbet beam, I care for it not.

I am no salvation here.

I am a priest of crows

I have only a little life, after all