BY RADOSLAV SERAFIMOV.
It’s the bells you’ll hear first They want their presence to be known They come, like gluttony and thirst Creatures of wool and blood and bone Pounding feet, they’re fast approaching The opposite of winter, the messengers of spring The bringers of a death encroaching On evil, cold, corrupted things
And now you see them, emerging from the darkness Fur and fang, masked faces, shining in the fire Hairy bodies bent under bells of blackness Their rings coax the flames higher, higher They ring the fire, their chants unceasing They sing of spring, of new life breathing But before that they must fix things For no life can rise where death may still reside They are demons yes, they are cruel But they are ours, so we bring them fuel And as they raise their voices higher, calling all the evils to them And burst across the fire, burning them to ruin I see their one true burden, the aim behind their madness They are here to burn away the sadness Every winter ends my friends But not because we cower It ends because some seek no higher power Some leave their homes one winter’s morning And as the sun is dawning Don the skins of demons, becoming omens Of destruction for all those other winter’s mornings And as they chant and ring their bells The message is now clear Life’s not gone, life’s not going You may have covered us, tried to send us to a frozen hell, But we remain We are still here!
G-YOU G-YOU MAGAZINE// MAGAZINE// FESTIVAL FESTIVAL // NOV // NOV 20212021 // 5 // 5
KUKERI
Chants and hollers fill the twilight They call their challenge boldly We stoke the pyre to fend off night Waiting on them, embers burning coldly
