Work Text:
(The following text is from a book published by Verynna Neldrani, Buoyant Armiger to Lord Vivic, God-King of Morrowind)
While many across Tamriel may have heard that Vivec is the Warrior-Poet of the Dunmer, few outside of my homeland have read Her Lordship's poetry, as it is not widely distributed in the rest of the continent. As an act of devotion to Her, I have chosen to publish some of Her writing (and translate it, where necessary) for the rest of the Tamrielic peoples, so that more readers may witness the true impact of the words of a God. I have also included some of my own commentary in order to shine a light on the purpose and impact of the following works.
____________________________________________________________________________
The Cantatas of Vivec: An Excerpt from "Brooding Beneath Red Mountain"
The original publication of The Cantatas was disappointing. How can someone truly understand a lyric, epic, poem about a life like Her Lordship's, when it is presented in a way that is neither lyric, epic, nor even really a poem? I have found that the original publication used a translation that is far too direct, and it did not take into account the beauty I see in the original Dunmeris. I have re-translated The Cantatas here, while doing my best to keep the original expressions and imagery.
The gaunt ghostfires loom subtle as a shroud,
As smoke clouds shadowy biers on Red Mount.
Mournful halls loom, lined with saintly stone spires.
A smold’ring pyre for the souls Death acquired.
Ash-stones line hearths in a heretic house,
And demons carouse in that blood-stained fount.
Fiercely girdled within walls of wit's glass,
The hosts lie smashed in cold cradles of ash.
But how and what will arouse them to wake?
Under what ear-breaking noise shall they shake?
Shall dark crucibles set their souls alight?
What final flight lies ‘neath skies red and bright?
By flickering watchfires must they flare,
Fighting to spare the lonely life they shared?
Spent in lament singing lost tales of doom,
What will we lose to seal this restless tomb?
____________________________________________________________________________
Little Chromatic Creatures
This was rather surprising for me to read, even though every Dunmer is well aware of the dual nature of Vivec. We all know that Her anticipation was Mephala, whose sphere is quite complex, but it was still rather startling to read the stanzas where my Lord writes so plainly of Her inclination to violence, hedonism, and erotic peril. Perhaps interacting with Her in person led me to believe that those legends were exaggerated, causing me to focus more on the version of Herself She implies with the thematic shift in the last stanza.
My righteous meter of unbroken glory
Breathing with fire, and breathing with ice,
Has birthed new creatures, who tell my story.
They sing of my menace, temptation, and vice.
The first one is Red, who sings of the blood
That flows from the veins of the ones I have slain.
The soil so soaked it churns into mud,
In the legions of fallen, Red stakes her claim.
For the men and mer I killed where they stood,
The red prances about to dance in their rain.
My priests and people bathed me all they could
But my little migraine still points at the stain.
What comes next is Yellow, a saccharine hue.
He acts with such yearning and greed for my life,
Sporting a smile he makes me his muse.
And in my sweet name he plays songs on his fife.
With hunger for more, and thirst in his eyes
He tempts my hand with his cloying little tunes
And hopes that I'm blind to fanciful lies.
His words I impugn, but I am not immune.
Next follows the Blue, who sings of my lust
That torrential wind and deep watery brine.
He watches me bend and sigh with each gust
And he knows I crave danger deep in my spine.
My husband the slaver, with tempest mast
Threw his weight on my back when we would entwine
And only the demons joined our repast
Because blood is just wine when we're both divine.
Then come Black and come White, those antonym kin,
Following the others with subtle creep
And then they change the core meanings within
By eating the souls of the previous three.
____________________________________________________________________________
I found this next poem in the cellar, rolled very tightly into the mouth of a bottle of wine. And while it does not have a title, the steady and rhythmic tick-tock of the meter and mentions of machines make it obvious that this was written for my Lord Sotha Sil, possibly in the hopes tempting Him out of His seclusion with words of praise and admiration. I don't believe He ever saw it, and I doubt it would have worked even if He had. I don't know what is meant by the mentions of freeing Nirn. I have sent a letter to the Clockwork Apostles asking for clarification, but as of this writing I have not heard back.
Broken foundling,
Heartsick Mainspring.
Ceases grieving
Chooses dreaming!
Daedric Demons
Don’t have reason
Changing seasons
End their treason
Dunmer Savior
Knows no failure
Nirn, he’ll save her
From her Jailor.
Timepiece trophy
Writes his story.
Perfect, holy,
Clockwork glory.
____________________________________________________________________________
Lady of the Stars
From Her frequent comparisons of Almalexia to the stars, Vivec likely dedicated this poem to Her lover and my Goddess, the Lady of Morrowind. I know that my lifespan is merely a breath next to the life of a god, but my soul would sing with joy if Vehk spoke of me this way. Alas, one can only dream.
With thoughts of her I sing in rhyme.
Her gleaming smile will bring forth mine.
A glittering glance she throws my way,
And on my feet I start to sway.
With bright of voice and shining heart,
She beckons me, her thighs apart.
Her glowing skin is glis’ning wet
And in her bed we blend our sweat.
At our apex we find sweet release,
So then we lie in climactic peace.
And as I trace her body's scars,
It's in those marks I count the stars.
____________________________________________________________________________
When I requested an explanation for the meaning of this next prose poem, She gave me a cryptic response, which was filled with convoluted imagery and opaque extended metaphors, none of which I remember well enough to reproduce here. I should have expected such an answer. I don't know why I bothered to ask.
Ambivalent absolution adequately admonishes avoidant armistice and
lazily legitimizes luminous lords' lustful, listless, lecherous
majesty. Musicians may marvelously make magnificent melodies
so soul shaking, shades shatter sanctimoniously. Should
imploring immaculate innocents into immense impish infancy
vehemently void vexing violence, virtuous voracity viciously
implores introspection into imagination in immeasurable intimacy.
_______________________________________________________________________
This is merely a selection of the poetry I was able to find. It is my dearest hope that in presenting these to you, you now feel a fraction of the admiration that I feel for my Lord Vivec.