To you Olja.
My dear Sister:
May every birthday be better than the last.
Put all the stars back in the night sky.
Raise the sun from its resting place,
And call the moon to see its lover,
Eternally seperated, by time and space.
Call upon the mountains to kneel,
Halt all the rivers and brooks.
And Order the ocean to stop,
its rapid current to now seal.
May the wind stop its sonorous yelps,
And may the air lay steady at this hour
May all blossoms not fall to the ground,
And may the honey never again be sour.
May the trees lay in trepid wake.
May the birds stand ceremoniously of withered branches.
Call upon the gods from the sky,
Or wherever they may lie.
Let Zeus kneel and hand you his intrepid wit;
His lightening bolt,
Let Aphrodite offer you here beauty,
Upon which all shall halt.
Let Hera happily surrender her cunning,
Her intelligence and wit,
Bath you in her loyalty and grit.
May the Angels sing their hymns in your name.
Those sonorous calamities with rhythm so beautiful.
And may Dionysus himself with self-possessed ecstacy,
Dance to the rhythm of your life;
Lamenting, enviously glaring at his maneads in strife.
Let all the lions know to keep silent,
No roar to be heard,
All prided muted.
And let all the eagles know where to circle
Upon which sacred ground you have once passed.
Allow all beauty to rise from the dark corners of the globe.
And Melody to flow through every enchanted grove,
Allow Divinity to sweep the streets clean,
Of evil, melancholy, and anything inbetween.
For you, my darling,
This world shall rise to its feet,
And those of great honour,
kneel at your majestic seat.
Time shall stop,
Clocks shall not tick a second forth,
And all will stop stare,
As it is your day of birth.
Happy birthday Olja!