El Sendero De La Luna: M I C T L A N R A D I O

jueves, 11 de febrero de 2010

M I C T L A N R A D I O

M I C T L A N R A D I O www.myspace.com/mictlanradio

M I C T L A N R A D I O

Mictlan Radio es un foro dedicado a la Difusión del Underground en México, somos miembros de la Orden del Cister, A.C. (www.myspace.com/ordendelcister). Programa de Radio por Internet trasmitido en vivo desde la Cabina de Radio Alternativo: http://www.radioalternativo.com/ los jueves en punto de las 08:00pm. y con retrasmisiones los días Martes (22:30hrs) y Sábados (16:00hrs).

En éste espacio se pretende escuchar aquellas voces que se encuentran ocultas para mostrar su arte y dar a conocer sus ideas. Conductores: DunkelKunoichi y Mario Del Rio,controles y programacion: Taakahua. Mictlan Radio apoya proyectos diversos de arte y cultura y Foros de expresión como: "Orden del Cister A.C.","El Umbral de la Luna", "La Catedral de Vampiros", "Carpe Noctem","La Revista Dark", "UTA REBORN","EL REAL UNDER","EL UNDER KABARETT","DADA-X", "SUBTERRANEO","SARAVANGE","ANIMA VLAK","HEXEN","La Ciudad de Los niños Perdidos","Ruido Vaginal","Almas Perdidas","Proyecto Maquina Hamlet","Gráfica Humana"... etc...

Así como a diversas bandas nacionales como Exsecor Vecordia, El Clan, Oblivion Requiem, Never Again, Erszebeth, The NodLands Children, Cyteres, Veneno Para Las Hadas, Morante, R.I.P. Rapunzel, Fractalia, Gorgonas, Evil Moon Project, etc...

así como a diversos DJ..s de la Escena Undergrund. También cuenta con una sección, en donde los radioescuchas pueden participar y es llamada: MEMORIAS EN EL BAÚL: "Éste espacio será utilizado para plasmar las Huellas de los Seres que visitan El Mictlán... comparte con nosotros tu Poesía, tus Pensamientos o alguna Frase.

Cada semana se elegirá alguna para ser mostrada en nuestro "Myspace" y leída en vivo en la Cabina de Radio Alternativo.

Gracias por ser parte de nosotros y continúa caminando en éste Valle...".
Hemos abierto un espacio en Hi5 para aquellas personas que no posean "myspace" y gusten hacernos llegar sus opiniones y participaciones. Vísitanos en:http://mictlanradio.hi5.com

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-Un mundo a la sombra del mundo,todas las ideas que surgen,que se ocultan,se muestran
Musica,Magia,Literatura,Cultura,Mictlan Radio-
Mictlan Radio 2 años

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The Raven (El cuervo).

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door,
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow,
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you", here I opened wide the door;
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore,
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore,
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being,
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before,
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster,
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore,
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore,
Of "Never - nevermore."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking,
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore,
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining,
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee,
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted,
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore,
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

(Edgar Allan Poe)

Edgar Allan Poe

Con Selene (Delmira Agustini)

Medallón de la noche con la imagen del día Y herido por la perla de la melancolía; Hogar de los espíritus, corazón del azul, La tristeza de novia en su torre de tul; Máscara del misterio o de la soledad, Clavada como un hongo sobre la inmensidad, Primer sueño del mundo, florecido en el cielo, O la primera blasfemia suspendida en su vuelo... Gran lirio astralizado, copa de luz y niebla, Caricia o quemadura del sol en la tiniebla; Bruja eléctrica y pálida que orienta en los caminos, Extravía en las almas, hipnotiza destinos... Desposada del mundo en magnética ronda; Sonámbula celeste a paso de blonda; Patria blanca o siniestra de lirios o de cirios, Oblea de pureza, pastilla de delirios; Talismán del abismo, melancólico y fuerte, Imantado de vida, imantado de muerte... A veces me pareces una tumba sin dueño... Y a veces... una cuna ¡toda blanca! tendida de esperanza y de ensueño...

La Mort des Amants (Charles Baudelaire)

La Mort des Amants

Nous aurons des lits pleins d'odeurs légères,
Des divans profonds comme des tombeaux,
Et d'étranges fleurs sur des étagères,
Ecloses pour nous sous des cieux plus beaux.

Usant à l'envi leurs chaleurs dernières,
Nos deux coeurs seront deux vastes flambeaux,
Qui réfléchiront leurs doubles lumières
Dans nos deux esprits, ces miroirs jumeaux.

Un soir fait de rose et de bleu mystique,
Nous échangerons un éclair unique,
Comme un long sanglot, tout chargé d'adieux;

Et plus tard un Ange, entr'ouvrant les portes,
Viendra ranimer, fidèle et joyeux,
Les miroirs ternis et les flammes mortes.

Charles Baudelaire

El Sendero De La Luna

Gracias por tu visita.

...La Banda Sonora de mi Vida...

jueves, 11 de febrero de 2010

M I C T L A N R A D I O

M I C T L A N R A D I O www.myspace.com/mictlanradio

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