FROM THE SEMEN OF THE HANGED, A MAGICAL ROOT ARISES
(From this scenery we are transferred further towards more sinister places: in dim corners behind the town, the gallows hill is towering, generally avoided by waggoner carriages, as long as they are able to sidetrack it on a more merry path. Not by witch covens though, as they are well aware of the surrounding forbidden ground's magickal qualities. Below the stiff feet of the dead, they search for the strangest root in shape of a tiny man; the root that unlocks the hidden nightly pathways through the sky, through which fetid he-goats and bats carry them towards the secret gatherings of heretics.) From the semen of the hanged, which they discharge in death throes Arises the earthly mannikin, known as the devil's candle to farmers and as mandrake to learned men Upon the gallows hill we have harvested it, as the coven leader has advised to us At night, on the first Monday after the vernal equinox it emanates a light alike that of a lantern, which infatuates the fireflies White and bluish flowers, thrice we have encircled with a sword Nearby we have tied a dog, starved for three days, in front of which a piece of meat was thrown... (The witches, unmoved by the ghastliness of the place, preserve the root carefully in a piece of canvas and their silent procession through moonless landscapes carries on towards the Krupina kirkyard, where they have to duly place the mandrake according to ancient instructions, before it will be ready for their further sorceries and magickal operations.) ...so he would pull the magic root out and we would avoid its screech, which summons lunacy and death In the middle of the cemetery we have buried the root, and watered it for thirty nights with milk in which bats have been drowned Until finally we have exhumed it from the grave and folded it into a cadaver's shroud So it would serve us for witchingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
