Bartzabel Rising At Kursk Poem by Diana Thoresen

Hear thou the Voice of Fire
Black diamonds lose their luster
On the Boulevard St Germain
Every man is a duke and a priest

The profane don't walk on the lustral
Waters of slumbering iron
Persephone and Eos keep
Bickering over the Iron Cross

Like fruity fishwives of Marseilles
Both ladies wear a peroxide-blonde bob
No wallflower sobriety is necessary
And a French soup of leeks and water

Will make you stay thin forever
Ditch that Parisian beige scarf, Mrs Hades
War loves bright colors like la cagole
The circle is inscribed in scarlet

Every web of minefields is a mighty sigil
Every dug-in tank is a terrible talisman
The flashing greens of watchtower trees
Are a melody of protozoic purple flames

Hekas! Hekas! Este Bebeloi!
Alhim Gibor, Adonai, Kamael
Every gun smells of pepper and cayenne
Hear thou the Voice of Fire