Prof. dr. ing. Yankal “Alex” of Moraria – a Portrait

In loving memory

professor

By Horatiu “The Living Liar” Griffen


You came into this world screaming, my Yankal.

That primal yell continued to echo throughout your days. Always seeking.

Even the clouded skies are silent now, on your passing. They do not mourn, no! In reverence they welcome you into their domain.


Romania is ever young, ever old. You saw great conflicts ebb and flow around you. The greatest struggle was always within, always internal.

You are gone now (moved on, that is, beyond our senses), but your grand contribution in the Krimean tradition will sing through any age that may come.

Yes, even if our valley should fall again into illogical darkness, your firm axioms will shine through: Beacons of greater knowledge, beacons of ancient tradition. Beacons of eternal Krim!


You left this world in silence, my Yankal.

Go on, now. To Elysium, to Valhalla, to the Vale Migdale. All arms, for you, are open.

Majahi na-majahi. Majahi ha-mare, Majahi Livare!

There is a Fountain

fountain

The spring of Krim, from whence the Mysterie floweth;
where the good drink is produc’d and consum’d.
Where all are humble, where none is false
and sad tales no ear hear, as such words are unspoken.

There is a Fountain
design’d by no simple craftsman,
but by that hand that reacheth
from the Beyond.

There is a Fountain
worshipp’d by true seekers,
who will find in their seeking
the words from Beyond:

Who will hear that strange bugle call out magnificent,
who will find, verily, a peace forever valid.
And none shall wrest it from their grasp,
as they grasp, indeed, Eternally, Forever.

There is a Fountain
by the great Livare, in that place
where I once stepp’d, yet stand
no more.

There is a Fountain
that was lost to mankind
as we crossed the threshold and
denied the Maker.

From Yanchal Krimeli – Becherian Interpretations pending English release in 2016.

Väinämöinen, brother of Krim

Finnish representation of Krim Jacob?
Finnish representation of Krim Jacob?

Vaka vanha Väinämöinen,  peer to Klever Krimälainen?

Moomin? How did you feel? ‘Twas a land of dismal cold, of a long winter night, of deep, deep Krim.

Who art thou, Klever Krimälainen? Of beasts, of hidden kowledge, of foul Ratty Ruotsi…

Majahi, na Majahi! Majahi ha-mare Livare!

And he did see that old spirit above shallow billows; that Krim, that Ghost… Strike thy bone-harp, bearded fellow, sing to all Northland, sing songs for all to hear: The Krim-song of Krimean saga!