MoonDancer
Clansman
"Voices are calling from somewhere below"
Posts: 384
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Post by MoonDancer on May 29, 2006 21:34:08 GMT 2
Diesel, isn't this song inspired by Tolkien?
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Post by HerraHirwi on May 30, 2006 5:27:52 GMT 2
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Post by Humppaporo on May 30, 2006 7:34:39 GMT 2
@virva Holtiton:
Thank you a lot!!
I can see these lyrics are in the same (by me admired style) as you used for the Korpiklaani lyrics... the rythm, the rhyme.
Also great to read the lyric content, can't want till Sinihirwi is out. I printed all lyrics!! For me lyrics are an important part of the song, no matter which language, and since I love many aspects of the Finnish language (and it's derivations, or it's predecessors)...
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Post by HerraHirwi on May 30, 2006 12:26:00 GMT 2
I can see these lyrics are in the same (by me admired style) as you used for the Korpiklaani lyrics... the rythm, the rhyme. I've never used an other writing style since I've found Poropetra in 2002. I've also specificly reminded that in every time, when I've discussed here about our band or writing or something that has to do with it.. EDIT: In this thread we have discussion about our "Kalevala-metre: jonne.proboards22.com/index.cgi?board=intellectual&action=display&thread=1149274247Also great to read the lyric content, can't want till Sinihirwi is out. I printed all lyrics!! For me lyrics are an important part of the song, no matter which language, and since I love many aspects of the Finnish language (and it's derivations, or it's predecessors)... Thanks! Nice to hear that you like the lyrics. I'm dealing right now the new lyrics, which are even yet more complicated and more poetic variations than those previous ones. And because they are parts of the new Poropetra - songs, they are yet more "beating" whith more stronger rhythm in them. Our music is changing yet more aggressive, progressive, but more shamanistic than ever before.
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Post by jarmo on Jun 22, 2006 14:04:08 GMT 2
I just only yesterday started to write again... Yesterday I made two poems...
Forest of Fantasies 20 / 6 / 06
The mighty tree, out in the woods, prouldy spread his roots. Thunder, after a flash, from lumber into ash. The tree fell down, ingorant of the town, lodged in its crown. Torn, crushed, at ground, shards still to be found, to be found by the old, the old giant of the woods. The burned tree, cold, Life, beauty, precious goods Traveller 20 / 6 / 06 Stumbling over the stones of the street, he walks, tired, hungry, his eyes meet a sign, warmth food, satisfaction, refill, a place for the night. A silent place, for reflection. The horrors of his travel still in sight, anything he could do about it? For him, no answers existed, neither questions, no thoughts, just sights, of ancient times, times from older days, written down, just incase. Now, hopelessly outdated, although it consisted, of the wisest sayings, overruling strongest prayings, to carry on, the journey.
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