Dies Irae
Dies irae! dies ilia!
Solvet saeclum in favilla
Teste David cum Sibylla.
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando Judex est venturus.
Cuncta stricte discussurus.
Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionem,
Coget omnes ante thronum.
Mors stupebit, et Natura,
Quum resurget creatura
Judicanti responsura.
Liber scriptus proferetur,
In quo totum continetur,
Unde mundus judicetur.
Judex ergo quum sedebit,
Quicquid latet apparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,
Quem patronem rogaturus,
Quum vix justus sit securus?
Rex tremendae majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis;
Salva me, Fons pietatis
Recordare, Jesu pie
Quod sum causa tuae viae;
Ne me perdas illa die.
Quarens me sedisti lassus
Redimisti crucem passus,
Tantus labor non sit cassus.
Juste Judex ultionis,
Donum fac remissionis
Ante diem rationis.
Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus;
Supplicanti parce, Deus.
Qui Mariam absolvisti
Et latronem exaudisti,
Mihi quoque spem dedisti.
Preces meae non sunt dignae,
Sed tu bonus fac benigne
Ne perenni cremer igne.
Inter oves locum praesta.
Et ab haedis me sequestra,
Statuens in parte dextra.
Confutatis maledictis,
Flammis acribus addictis,
Voca me cum benedictis.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis;
Gere curam mei finis.
Lacrymosa dies illa
Qua resurgent et favilla,
Judicandus homo reus
Huic ergo parce, Deus!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
The Day Of Wrath / Dies Iræ
Day of Satan's painful duty! Dies iræ! dies illa!
Earth shall vanish, hot and sooty; Solvet sæclum in favilla
So says Virtue, so says Beauty. Teste David cum Sibylla.
Ah! what terror shall be shaping Quantus tremor est futurus,
When the Judge the truth's undraping- Quando Judex est venturus.
Cats from every bag escaping! Cuncta stricte discussurus.
Now the trumpet's invocation Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Calls the dead to condemnation; Per sepulchra regionem,
All receive an invitation. Coget omnes ante thronum
Death and Nature now are quaking, Mors stupebit, et Natura,
And the late lamented, waking, Quum resurget creatura
In their breezy shrouds are shaking. Judicanti responsura.
Lo! the Ledger's leaves are stirring, Liber scriptus proferetur,
And the Clerk, to them referring, In quo totum continetur,
Makes it awkward for the erring. Unde mundus judicetur.
When the Judge appears in session, Judex ergo quum sedebit,
We shall all attend confession, Quicquid latet apparebit,
Loudly preaching non-suppression. Nil inultum remanebit.
How shall I then make romances Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,
Mitigating circumstances? Quem patronem rogaturus,
Even the just must take their chances. Quum vix justus sit securus?
King whose majesty amazes, Rex tremendæ majestatis,
Save thou him who sings thy praises; Qui salvandos salvas gratis;
Fountain, quench my private blazes. Salva me, Fons pietatis.
Pray remember, sacred Saviour, Recordare, Jesu pie,
Mine the playful hand that gave your Quod sum causa tuæ viæ;
Death-blow. Pardon such behavior. Ne me perdas illa die.
Seeking me, fatigue assailed thee, Quærens me sedisti lassus
Calvary's outlook naught availed thee; Redemisti crucem passus,
Now 'twere cruel if I failed thee. Tantus labor non sit cassus.
Righteous judge and learnèd brother, Juste Judex ultionis,
Pray thy prejudices smother Donum fac remissionis
Ere we meet to try each other. Ante diem rationis.
Sighs of guilt my conscience gushes, Ingemisco tanquam reus,
And my face vermilion flushes; Culpa rubet vultus meus;
Spare me for my pretty blushes. Supplicanti parce, Deus.
Thief and harlot, when repenting, Qui Mariam absolvisti,
Thou forgavest-complimenting Et latronem exaudisti,
Me with sign of like relenting. Mihi quoque spem dedisti.
If too bold is my petition Preces meæ non sunt dignæ,
I'll receive with due submission Sed to bonus fac benigne
My dismissal-from perdition. Ne perenni cremer igne.
When thy sheep thou hast selected Inter oves locum præsta.
From the goats, may I, respected, Et ab hædis me sequestra,
Stand amongst them undetected. Statuens in parte dextra.
When offenders are indited, Confutatis maledictis,
And with trial-flames ignited, Flammis acribus addictis,
Elsewhere I'll attend if cited. Voca me cum benedictis.
Ashen-hearted, prone and prayerful, Oro supplex et acclinis,
When of death I see the air full, Cor contritum quasi cinis;
Lest I perish too be careful. Gere curam mei finis.
On that day of lamentation, Lacrymosa dies illa
When, to enjoy the conflagration, Qua resurget et favilla,
Men come forth, O be not cruel: Judicandus homo reus,
Spare me, Lord-make them thy fuel. Huic ergo parce, Deus!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Alex Descends Into Hell For A Bottle Of Milk/korova 1
Dies irae, dies illa
Dies irae, dies illa
Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Decet in inferno
Dies illa, dies illa
Translation:
A day of wrath, that day
A day of wrath, that day
The amazing sound scattering from the trumpet
As is fitting for hell
That day, that day
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stravinsky's Three Pieces
First Movement
Thin-voiced, nasal pipes
Drawing sound out and out
Until it is a screeching thread,
Sharp and cutting, sharp and cutting,
It hurts.
Whee-e-e!
Bump! Bump! Tong-ti-bump!
There are drums here,
Banging,
And wooden shoes beating the round, grey stones
Of the market-place.
Whee-e-e!
Sabots slapping the worn, old stones,
And a shaking and cracking of dancing bones;
Clumsy and hard they are,
And uneven,
Losing half a beat
Because the stones are slippery.
Bump-e-ty-tong! Whee-e-e! Tong!
The thin Spring leaves
Shake to the banging of shoes.
Shoes beat, slap,
Shuffle, rap,
And the nasal pipes squeal with their pigs' voices,
Little pigs' voices
Weaving among the dancers,
A fine white thread
Linking up the dancers.
Bang! Bump! Tong!
Petticoats,
Stockings,
Sabots,
Delirium flapping its thigh-bones;
Red, blue, yellow,
Drunkenness steaming in colours;
Red, yellow, blue,
Colours and flesh weaving together,
In and out, with the dance,
Coarse stuffs and hot flesh weaving together.
Pigs' cries white and tenuous,
White and painful,
White and -
Bump!
Tong!
Second Movement
Pale violin music whiffs across the moon,
A pale smoke of violin music blows over the moon,
Cherry petals fall and flutter,
And the white Pierrot,
Wreathed in the smoke of the violins,
Splashed with cherry petals falling, falling,
Claws a grave for himself in the fresh earth
With his finger-nails.
Third Movement
An organ growls in the heavy roof-groins of a church,
It wheezes and coughs.
The nave is blue with incense,
Writhing, twisting,
Snaking over the heads of the chanting priests.
`Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine';
The priests whine their bastard Latin
And the censers swing and click.
The priests walk endlessly
Round and round,
Droning their Latin
Off the key.
The organ crashes out in a flaring chord,
And the priests hitch their chant up half a tone.
`Dies illa, dies irae,
Calamitatis et miseriae,
Dies magna et amara valde.'
A wind rattles the leaded windows.
The little pear-shaped candle flames leap and flutter,
`Dies illa, dies irae;'
The swaying smoke drifts over the altar,
`Calamitatis et miseriae;'
The shuffling priests sprinkle holy water,
`Dies magna et amara valde;'
And there is a stark stillness in the midst of them
Stretched upon a bier.
His ears are stone to the organ,
His eyes are flint to the candles,
His body is ice to the water.
Chant, priests,
Whine, shuffle, genuflect,
He will always be as rigid as he is now
Until he crumbles away in a dust heap.
`Lacrymosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.'
Above the grey pillars the roof is in darkness.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Storm
torrents of rain in tormented drops
the clouds are singing ominous
Oh Fortuna Dies Irae
Oh Fortuna Dies Illa
whispers the silent cilog
welcome the lightening be the hearts guest
welcome the lightening strike at your best
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Thomae Fides
“DIGITUM tuum, Thoma,
Infer, et vide manûs!
Manum tuam, Thoma,
Affer, et mitte in latus.”
“Dominus et Deus,
Deus,” dixit,
“Et Dominus meus.”
“Quia me vidisti,
Thoma, credidisti.
Beati qui non viderunt,
Thoma, et crediderunt.”
“Dominus et Deus,
Deus,” dixit,
“Et Dominus meus.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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To George Herbert,
SENT HIM WITH ONE OF MY SEALS OF THE
ANCHOR AND CHRIST.
QUI prius assuetus serpentum fasce tabellas
Signare, hæc nostræ symbola parva domus,
Adscitus domui Domini, patrioque relicto
Stemmate, nanciscor stemmata jure nova.
Hinc mihi Crux primo quæ fronti impressa lavacro,
Finibus extensis, anchora facta patet.
Anchoræ in effigiem Crux tandem desinit ipsam,
Anchora fit tandem Crux tolerata diu.
Hoc tamen ut fiat, Christo vegetatur ab ipso
Crux, et ab affixo est Anchora facta Jesu.
Nec natalitiis penitus serpentibus orbor,
Non ita dat Deus, ut auferat ante data.
Qua sapiens, dos est, qua terram lambit et ambit,
Pestis, at in nostra sit medicina Cruce
Serpens fixa Cruci si sit natura, Crucique
A fixo nobis gratia tota fluat.
Omnia cum Crux sint, Crux Anchora fixa, sigillum
Non tam dicendum hoc, quam catechismus erit.
Mitto, nec exigua, exigua sub imagine, dona,
Pignora amicitiæ, et munera vota preces.
Plura tibi accumulet sanctus cognominis, Ille
Regia qui flavo dona sigillat equo.
poem by John Donne
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Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Heavy Metal Do Senhor
o cara mais underground que eu conheco o diabo
que no inferno toca cover das cances celestiais
com sua banda formada s por anjos decaidos
a platia pega fogo quando rolam os festivais
enquanto isso Deus brinca de gangorra no playground
do cu com santos que ja foram homens de pecado
de repente os santos falam "toca Deus um som maneiro"
e Deus fala "aguenta vou rolar um som pesado"
a banda cover do diabo acho que ja ta por fora
o mercado ta de olho no som que Deus criou
com trombetas distorcidas e harpas envenenadas
mundo inteiro vai pirar com o heavy metal do Senhor
song performed by by Zeca Baleiro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Never Dies...
I never knew how long a day could be
It was winter and the sun was shining
Beyond the shadows I could see
It was winter and the wind was blowing
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
The season end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
I look at picture I took of you
Now its winter and the colors fading
I just sit here while the wind blows through me
No matter how hard I try
Cant stop this feeling
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
True love never dies
Never dies
Now I dont want to be wanting you
Its been three years and my hearts still crying
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies !
True love never dies !
Love never dies
Love never dies
Love never dies...
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And If An Old Man Dies
AND IF AN OLD MAN DIES
(Yet another reflection on Koheleth)
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him nothing-
And if an old man dies and leaves behind
Much family and wealth
And friends who remember him-
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him
A reverenced work
Esteemed through many generations-
And if an old man dies
With a name mankind wishes to take with it to its own grave-
And if an old man dies
And nothing survives of humanity
And all his works and wishes
Bound up with the being of others
Who earthbound will die with the Earth
Or transformed into other kinds of being elsewhere
Lose eventually their essential humanity-
And if an old man dies
As all die
And if we stand forever alone in a universe unknown,
Then what else is there but praying to God
And hoping
That somehow beyond it all in some way we cannot now understand
An old man‘s death will be more or less
Than what we can think or know it to be now-
And if an old man dies,
And somehow never dies
And if God saves us all
And if we are surprised
poem by Shalom Freedman
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De Scaevola.
DE SCAEVOLA.
Lictorem pro rege necans nunc mutius ultro
Sacrifico propriam concremat igne manum:
Miratur Porsenna virum, paenamque relaxans
Maxima cum obscessis faedera a victor init,
Plus flammis patriae confert quam fortibus armis,
Una domans bellum funere dextra sua.
ENGLISHED.
The hand, by which no king but serjeant dies,
Mutius in fire doth freely sacrifice;
The prince admires the Hero, quits his pains,
And Victor from the seige peace entertains;
Rome's more oblig'd to flames than arms or pow'r,
When one burnt hand shall the whole war devour.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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True Love Never Dies
True love never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies, true love
Never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies
We look like shadows in the streetlight, only me and u a secret rendevouz after
Midnight, they tried to keep us from each other, they crucify our love, say
Were not good enough to be lovers, I want to hold u in the morning, I want to
Wake up by your side, no reason to hide what were feelin, (give me your
Feelin!), I want to tell the world about it, tell them all the truth, get up on
The rooftops and shout it, true love never dies, true love never dies,true love
Never dies (repeat to fade)
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ergo Bibamus!
FOR a praiseworthy object we're now gather'd here,
So, brethren, sing: ERGO BIBAMUS!
Tho' talk may be hush'd, yet the glasses ring clear,
Remember then: ERGO BIBAMUS!
In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word,
With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirr'd,
And an echo the festal hall filling is heard,
A glorious ERGO BIBAMUS!
I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare,
And bethought me of: ERGO BIBAMUS;
So I gently approach'd, and she let me stand there,
While I help'd myself, thinking: BIBAMUS!
And when she's appeased, and will clasp you and kiss,
Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss,
Take refuge, till sound is some worthier bliss,
In the comforting ERGO BIBAMUS!
I am call'd by my fate far away from each friend;
Ye loved ones, then: ERGO BIBAMUS!
With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend.
So double our ERGO BIBAMUS!
Whate'er to his treasures the niggard may add,
Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had,
For gladness lends over its charms to the glad,
So, brethren, sing; ERGO BIBAMUS!
And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?
I thought but of: ERGO BIBAMUS
'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise,
So again and again sing: BIBAMUS!
For joy through a wide-open portal it guides,
Bright glitter the clouds, as the curtain divides,
An a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides,
While we thunder our: ERGO BIBAMUS!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Gentle reader, I presume thou wilt be very inquisitive to know what antic or personate actor this is, that so insolently intrudes upon this common theatre, to the world's view, arrogating another man's name; whence he is, why he doth it, and what he hath to say; although, as he said, "Primum si noluero, non respondebo, quis coacturus est?" I am a free man born, and may choose whether I will tell; who can compel me? If I be urged, I will as readily reply as that Egyptian in Plutarch, when a curious fellow would need know what he had in his basket, "Quum vides velatam, quid inquiris in rem absconditam?" It was therefore covered, because he should not know what was in it.
Robert Burton in The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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J'aime l'araignée
J'aime l'araignée et j'aime l'ortie,
Parce qu'on les hait ;
Et que rien n'exauce et que tout châtie
Leur morne souhait ;
Parce qu'elles sont maudites, chétives,
Noirs êtres rampants ;
Parce qu'elles sont les tristes captives
De leur guet-apens ;
Parce qu'elles sont prises dans leur oeuvre ;
Ô sort ! fatals noeuds !
Parce que l'ortie est une couleuvre,
L'araignée un gueux;
Parce qu'elles ont l'ombre des abîmes,
Parce qu'on les fuit,
Parce qu'elles sont toutes deux victimes
De la sombre nuit...
Passants, faites grâce à la plante obscure,
Au pauvre animal.
Plaignez la laideur, plaignez la piqûre,
Oh ! plaignez le mal !
Il n'est rien qui n'ait sa mélancolie ;
Tout veut un baiser.
Dans leur fauve horreur, pour peu qu'on oublie
De les écraser,
Pour peu qu'on leur jette un oeil moins superbe,
Tout bas, loin du jour,
La vilaine bête et la mauvaise herbe
Murmurent : Amour !
poem by Victor Hugo
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Yema quells other fears
In me dies the fear of God;
I don’t pray as time runs out.
In me dies the fear of people;
I don’t love as their help dries out.
In me dies the fear of space,
Shrines being no longer divine.
In me dies the fear of soil;
I don’t long for it, about to leave.
In me dies the fear of looks
As I live a life of neglects.
In me lies the fear Yama
As to how He would conduct me.
[Yema is the god of death]
15.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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And Then The Beauty Dies
And then the Beauty dies
And goes where no one knows
And all the life remains
Hidden as it was -
And then the Beauty dies
And all forever lost
Remembrance too surprised
To no longer still remain-
And then the Beauty dies
And pain and poignant love
Remain for those behind
The beauty in their mind. -
And then the Beauty dies
And then the Beauty dies.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Every love dies
There is time
When love for mother dies,
When love for wife dies,
When love for children dies
And love for kith and world dies.
There is no time
When the love for woman dies.
That remains until you die.
24.01.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beauty at scrutiny
Beauty is born of novelty
And dies of banality
Beauty is born of rarity
And dies of disuse.
Beauty is born of formidability
And dies off familiarity.
Beauty is born of forbidden ness
And dies of togetherness.
Beauty is born in conquest
And dies of another conquest.
In net, beauty is born in one’s arrival
And dies in one’s overstaying.
A thing of a fresh one is a joy for ever.
03.03.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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