Rasluka - Nargaroth

Nargaroth
Rasluka Part I
No Colours Records April 2004
MCD, 10“ Vinyl all in Black
1. Introduction – Trauermarsch/Funeral March 03:39
2. Rasluka 09:45
3. Wo die Kraniche zieh’n 06:49
4. Tränen eines Mannes 09:59
Total playing time 30:32
The cover image of the Rasluka series shows the Irishwoman Deirdre, mourning the
death of her beloved Naoise. She was forced to wed King Conchobhar, who once had
her beloved killed when he had flown to Scotland. In order not to have to give herself to
the murderer of her beloved and his brothers, Eogan mac Durthacht, she jumped in
front of a dashing carriage and smashed her head at a rock. Two pines grew on the
tombs of Naoise and Deirdre, which eventually wound around each other and then grew
as a single tree.
The Rasluka series presents the attempt to interpret one of the most difficult
experiences in my life, namely the passing of the only person whom to this day I could
call a friend. It can and will only be an attempt as judged by the moment of writing of
these lines; the material brought to sound still isn't in its completed form and I cannot
expect a successful spiritual relief of the deceased as my experiences with the
deceased cannot be related to any already-released Nargaroth works. In addition, the
series contains thoughts from my perspective about the life and death of one of the last
real rebels, one who played an important roll from my youth to today with no loss of
intensity. Rasluka is the phonetic morphology for the Russian expression of "parting
ways". The released works under this name should be rightfully understood in content
as such.
KvN
As I received the message of death on the evening of September 9, 1995 and
consequently in a rush of pain newly "remodeled" my residence, I didn't suspect how
extensively this event would influence me. I repressed and tried to forget what
happened, yet directly from the dark empire of repression came a substance so
manipulatively effecting my spirit that I dare say my social or coexistentual incapacity
can be traced directly back to a powerlessness born on a mild September evening. A
few hours before the tragedy R. came to me asking if he could leave a few pieces of
his HiFi equipment with me because a court official was to visit him and he wasn't
prepared to give it up. Shortly after he made his way I was already curious as to which
pieces lay in the cellar, but I didn't want to go behind my friends back and go through
the property he had trusted with me. Later, it must have been a few weeks after his
suicide, Charoon was with me and we spoke, like so often, about the event. Then I
remembered the cartons still waiting in the cellar. We decided to carry them up and
open them, but even on the way up out of the cellar I realized that something was
wrong. Because as Charoon easily balanced a carton with one hand, my carton's
weight was giving me considerable problems. As we opened them we found in one
carton some t-shirts and longsleeves from R. and in the other his entire music
collection, from CDs to cassettes to video tapes. I must not mention what this moment
and its corresponding realization destroyed in me. To this day I ask myself if I could
had prevented this tragedy had I thrown away my decency on the day R. brought me
the cartons and simply opened them.
Kanwulf: Strings, Vocals & Chor, usw.
Charoon: Strings
Occulta Mors: Drums
Kanwulf: Strings, Flute, Vocals and Choir, etc.
Charoon: Strings
Occulta Mors: Drums
Rasluka - Part I and Part II were brought to sound from 3. - 5. June 2001
As a parting are to be dedicated to
R.S. (25.9.1976 - 9.9. 1995) who hanged himself,
and to one of the last rebels,
Ronald Belford Scott (9.7.1946 - 19/20.2.1980), who after a night of
drinking suffocated on his own vomit.
KANWULF IS NARGAROTH, NARGAROTH IS KANWULF
NO COMPROMISE !!!
Rasluka
(Music/Lyrics 2001)
There is so much to write about your death
and no song could manage
to release me from the suffering
that bring me the thoughts.
At the place where not only the dead cry
and the wind blows away the tears
we both seem to speak
yet I am the only one alive.
I see the old pictures adorning and
decorating the wall for so long now
yet I want to be free, no longer fear,
and also not lose my life.
So I detach myself from this day
yet you will be in my heart forever
Also when at night I ask for the Why
shall this song for now be goodbye.
Wo Die Kraniche zieh’n
(Where the Cranes roam)
(Music 2001/Lyric March2004)
Softly I hear the crickets whisper,
softly I hear the reed that sings.
I hear rustling wings in the sky,
far out there, deep in the wind.
I hear their sounds carried,
fairy light, soft across the fen.
But I also hear lament my soul.
The hands I press on my ears.
But she won’ become silent this way.
She cries in my head alone,
that she happens on me,
with her sorrow and whole screaming.
So I wish to fly away,
where cranes hunting dreams.
I disappear with’em in the sunset glow,
to lament with their king.
……
Die Tränen eines Mannes
(The Tears of a Man)
(Music 2001/Lyrics 06-2002)
Many of my tears fell deep
in ravines I dug myself.
They ran also when I slept,
he who followed me there - the black spectre.
It could be that I was lost
as the tears cooled my eyes.
Yet they themselves were there in freedom,
the shadows, which rooted the wounds.
If tears were clear stars,
then I'd never want to cry.
Because with everything that runs from the sky,
their lovely shining fades.
And when I will finally lay down to die,
I want to forever know,
that I stayed a man
and every tear was priceless
.......
To all the big-mouths who only define Nargaroth with "Herbstleyd": I cannot and don't
create another album like Herbstleyd again. All the emotions expressed by this work
are, even if with a delay, completed! New or different emotions mean new and
different expressions! New experiences, thoughts, pains and pleasures cannot always
be the same that old ways and means were expressed. I'm not just some kind of guy
that makes a bit of "music", like the most in this art form creating only empty shells of
a song. This art is my possibility to live, yes, to live on, and the spirit and robe of my
expression changes with me in the manner it stands in front of you. Alone this, so
small as it might seem, differentiates me from the scum and their pitiful attempts to
judge or set me in a certain direction. To direct me means to stand above me. Yet
when I look above I only see stars illuminating my devoured paths. Only they have the
right to direct me, and they won't do it alone!
Nargaroth won't get better or worse, only different!
KvN