Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XVI
Among the rest ('twas thus his dream went on
While Adrian slept) in more than courteous mood
And smiling welcome, fairer scarce was none,
That noble knight Natalia's husband stood,
A gentle man whom of a truth in life,
Alas for jealous youth and wit too keen!
Adrian loved little though he loved his wife,
But now beheld as the most blest of men,--
Because Natalia was not dead, he thought,
Seeing him thus unconscious of all grief,--
And in that cloudless face where pain was not
Adrian found omen to his soul's relief,
And looked beyond if haply he should see
Her face too following fixed in constancy.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XVIII
Nor were the rest astonished. Even he,
Natalia's lord, in all complacent grace
Looked on approving of her act when she
Stepped forward with her face to Adrian's face,
And touched his lips and told him of the truth
How all was ended now of her old life,
With the sad barrier that had marred their youth:
Husband no longer and no longer wife,
Natalia had grown free. Then the proud lover
Gave thanks to God and took her arm in his,
Fearless how now their love they should discover
To any anger of suspicious eyes,
And led her forth his bride before them all
With solemn music to the banquet--hall.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XXX
Thus was Natalia loved and lost and won.
Some say that Adrian, having gained the goal
Of his long hopes, and being of those who run
Too lightly for their constancy of soul,
Or finding maybe that in spite of fate
She he had saved from death was ill at ease,
And halted still in doubt 'twixt this and that,
Grudging her frightened soul its ecstasies,
At a high feast in presence of her kin
Gave back Natalia to her husband's care:
A fair resolve, mayhap, and lesser sin,
If that sin be which love hath made so fair.
Yet do I doubt me all so blindly ended,
Since both from Adam were and Eve descended.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet II
'Twas thus with my Natalia, suppliant soul,
Who loved young Adrian to her heart's despite,
And loved him dearly, yet could not cajole
Her fears of ill nor use her woman's right
To grant his wish, but ever put away
The sweet fulfilment of each day's desire
To a new to--morrow void as yesterday.
Adrian in vain, with wild hopes high and higher,
Essayed to make her convert to his creed.
No laggard he to do, devise or dare.
But still she failed him ever at his need,
And still she gave but tears to his heart's prayer.
And days and nights went cheerless for them both,
And not a flower was gathered of love's troth.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XIX
And still the music sounded near and near,
Loud and more loud on Adrian's nuptial way,
Preluding soft, as 'twere a dulcimer,
But gathering strength and volume with delay,
And sadness too. In truth, as strange a chaunt
As ever bridegroom's ear might choose to know,
Or lover's voice to listening lover vaunt,
(Thus Adrian argued in his dream) for, lo,
The dirge resolved itself to words of pain,
And ``Miserere mei Domine''
Became the burden of its dolorous strain,
Till the love faded from Natalia's glee,
And with a sudden shudder in the sun
Adrian awoke and his brave dream was done.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XXIV
And, feeling round him, lo, upon the mould
A pick and spade cast down by accident.
And Adrian laughed when in those engines cold
He guessed the furtherers of his heart's intent.
And all night through he wrought with them in rage,
As miners do who know the prize at hand.
Blest Adrian! Now thy lips thou shalt engage
In the full solace thy long love has planned.
Her face is near thee. Speed thee on thy task.
Her breast's fair purity is thine to kiss.
She shall not now deny though thou shouldst ask
Her whole soul's prize in ransom of thy bliss.
Thrice happy Adrian! See, thy hands have slid
Trembling on thy Natalia's coffin lid.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XX
Oh, pitiful awaking! What was Adrian's pleasure,
That it had earned for him such bitterness?
What his soul's pride that its new tender measure
Should find its echo in a dirge like this?
The chaunters chaunting slow were sable priests
Robed for a requiem; the laughters clear,
Women that wept; the untasted marriage feasts,
Death's banquet spread, and she upon the bier,
Natalia's self in her white robe of death,
Mourned by the hard eyes of unfriendly men,
And with them he, her husband, with set teeth
And visage pale which ne'er should smile again
In any welcome. Adrian neither moved
Nor spoke, but gazed upon the form he loved.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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St. Adrian
to St. Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
a silent prayer to the Roman man
that calm man like deadly white hands
his steadfast wife even locked her door
when she thought he was like her no more
so a prayer to Adrian, saint of knights
a St. only after the lion beasts rites
to him be a morsel of honor, be it true
not more flames or a blunt corkscrew
to Saint Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
enter the night of Adrianus Incarsaurus
the holy, now, of Rome...MARTYR US!
to Saint Adrian, the saint, the beast
oh cover us, Adrian, from Abaddon and the beast
to Saint Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
sing your hymn with the name on your lips
or simply, silently 'Adrian' in felt tips
to him be a morsel of honor, be it true
not more flames, or unjust undo
to the leader of dead Roman ranks
to St. Adrian I give thanks
poem by Michael Cook
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XVII
Nor yet in vain. For to him through the rout
Behold, 'mid herald whispers of her name
And laughing eyes and welcome hands held out,
Natalia's self behind her husband came,
Her face arrayed in smiles, as who should say
She held a secret string of happiness
Joined to her heart grief could not take away.
And Adrian gazed at her in rapturous bliss,
Knowing his love had triumphed o'er the grave
And she at last was his, a heritage
For ever for his heart to hold and have,
In spite of change and death's untimely rage
And the long tempest of forgotten tears,
The pain, the anger and the grief of years.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia's Life
natalia didn't believe
in anything anymore
for her parents abused her
and beat her every day
witch made natalia
wish...
she wasn't alive
natalia was only 6
when her father
tried to rape her
she went crying to her mother
but her mother didn't listen
or seem to care
natalia is 16
about to have a baby
she doesn't want
or need
natalia is 18
tried to kill
her parents
but her father
grabed a hold of her
and killed her instead
by: crystal sonier
age: 16
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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A Cure for Wellness
Mia Goth, Dane DeHaan, Jason Isaacs, Celia Imrie, Susanne Wuest, Lisa Banes, Carl Lumbly, Adrian Schiller, Natalia Bobrich
by Justin Haythe from A Cure for Wellness (2017)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Cure for Wellness [trailer 2]
Mia Goth, Dane DeHaan, Jason Isaacs, Celia Imrie, Susanne Wuest, Lisa Banes, Carl Lumbly, Adrian Schiller, Natalia Bobrich
by Justin Haythe from A Cure for Wellness (2017)
Submitted by anonym
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A Question
AND so in the death-darkened chamber they met,
The woman that once he had loved and the one he loved yet—
The wife who had warped his desire and the woman he could not forget.
They stood by the bier where between them he slept,
And the love he had lost in his wife to her swimming eyes leapt;
But the woman his life had belonged to—his paramour—spoke not nor wept.
It was only a story of sated desire—
Of a love merely sensual burnt to an ash by its fire,
And a husband who turned to a more luscious love that was his for the hire.
All had sinned. For the husband had killed by his clutch,
Rough-handed, the fruit of a love that had dropped at his touch.
One woman's great sin was not loving, his wife's was in loving too much.
And so he had died; it was over at last;
And across him the two women looked at each other aghast—
Across his cold corse, and across the cold corse of the loathsome dead Past!
Then the smouldering love of the wife leapt to flame,
And she poured forth her kisses upon him, and called on his name.
But the other said “No, he is nothing to you; soul and body I claim!”
They looked at each other awhile. Said the wife wearily,
“He is mine; for I loved him, and ever shall love him; let be!”
But the other sneered, “No, he is mine, and mine only, because he loved me!”
Then the two laid their hands on the body between;
And fought for it, wife against paramour, fiercely, unseen—
For the body diseased and polluted, as ever his spirit had been.
And this is a question for answer in Hell:
To which of the two did his spirit belong, can you tell?
Think, was it the woman he loved, or the one who had loved him too well?
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Had I But Known
I loved thee! Ah, those vows of love,
So fondly made, so soon unmade!
I trusted thee all men above—
Ah, fatal trust, so soon betrayed.
A dream that wore the face of truth
Was what I loved. The dream has flown.
All, all I've lost, faith, hope and love,
Had I but known! Had I but known!
Thou weepest. Would that I could shed
A tear for either joy or grief!
But from the heart grown cold and dead
There springs no fountain of relief.
Now all my life is tearless pain,
My hope forgetfulness alone,
And all my speech the one refrain—
Had I but known! Had I but known!
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Natalia
Im walkin down the street
Im on that midnight beat
Im on a lonely avenue
Baby, wont you walk with me
Baby, wont you talk with me
Oh thats all I want you to do, now
Walk with me
Talk to me
Call your name out
Chorus:
Na na, na na, na na
Na na, na na, na na
Na na, na na, na na, natalia
Here on a summer night
I wanna kiss and hold you tight
Just the way we used to do
Walkin down the same old street
People that we used to meet
Such a long, long time ago, now
Walk with me
Talk to me
And I call out your name
Repeat chorus two times
On a magic night like this
I hunger for your kiss
On a magic night like this
Repeat chorus
Walk with me
Talk with me
Walk with me
Talk with me
Natalia, natalia, natalia
Natalia, natalia, natalia
Fade
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your love, my 'sweetest dream
Loved you with my heart,
my soul and my conscience.
Loved you with all I had,
sort of love that was world blind.
Loved you with my head,
my respect and my loyality.
Loved you with every breeze,
that touched your ideal personality.
Loved you as you are,
you was and you have always been.
Loved you as you would be,
all possible shades that you could be in.
Loved you with my truth,
my life and my genuine.
Loved you with my silence,
my words that are living.
Loved you in my lows,
my highs and my extemes.
Loved you in each mood swings,
your love my sweet dream.
Loved you such love,
undefinable and unspoken.
Loved you such love,
that remained untaken! ! !
poem by Jaya Mishra
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It was a lot of pressure, but I loved working with Tim and I loved working with Adrian.
quote by Elizabeth Pena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adrian (feat. Elvis Costello)
Adrian - don't you understand?
Fools like us are always dreaming.
And when you go to bed
And cover up your head
It's better if you try to stop remembering.
And the world is slowly dawning
To wake up to a new clear morning.
Some of them just half your age
Get written off, page by page...
Adrian don't you understand?
Fools like us are always dreaming.
And when you go to bed
And cover up your head
It's better if you try to stop remembering.
Some of them just half your age
Get written off page by page...
And the world is softly sleeping
While your fears are in their keeping.
All the planet's making haste
To blow to bits in outer space...
Adrian - don't you understand
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet X
But with full daylight finding no relief,
Though he had spent the newness of his fears
And looked with altered eyes upon his grief,
For sorrow often drowses in its tears,
And men sleep deepest on a wound, he rose
And taking horse made in all haste for Rome,
Thinking if thus he might assuage his woes
By visiting his dead Natalia's tomb
And asking of her dear new--buried lips
What secret thought had been of love and him
When the world left her in its last eclipse.
And still in passionate words he made his theme,
That she was waiting yet to hear his cry:
``O my soul's soul, I did not bid thee die.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XI
So in his agony at noon he came,
On the third day, to where without the walls
Stood San Lorenzo with its front of flame,
Where mourners wait the accustomed funerals.
Here to a cypress having tied his steed,
He lighted down sore weary on the grass,
Seeking such comfort for his body's need
As rest could lend till the day's heat should pass
And no man stopped him, either friend or foe
Or knight or citizen or friar or priest;
Nor sought he more companionship of woe
Than the dumb presence of his jaded beast.
There, hidden in the shade where he had crept,
Adrian o'erspent with sorrow soundly slept.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Love On All Levels
I have loved you like the wind
That gently blows the waves to shore.
I have loved you like the sun
In blissful warmth forever more.
I have loved you like the quiet moon
Way up in the sky.
I have loved you like the snowflakes
That dip and whirl and fly
I have loved you like the gentle rain
That upon my face does mist.
I have loved you with the mystery
Of fog in all its shifts.
I have at times loved you so passionately
Within hail and storm and squall.
I have stood beside you always.
Yes, I've loved you through them all.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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