
Thin Hands Coven
Folkish faith, wild femininity, and a little bit of this and that. Join us three 🦉🐦🐦⬛
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ТипПубличный
Верификация
Не верифицированныйДоверенность
Не провернныйРасположение
ЯзыкДругой
Дата создания каналаБер 31, 2024
Добавлено на TGlist
Трав 30, 2024Прикрепленная группа
Последние публикации в группе "Thin Hands Coven"
post.reposted:
🪻 Wheat & Sky 🌿

20.04.202521:08
And, we're live!! That was a lot of fun for me, I think it was a little shorter than my future episodes will turn out, but please do let me know what you think and if there's any topics you'd like me to consider in the future! Many blessings!


post.reposted:
ᛉ Sagnamaðr Stark ᛉ

20.04.202519:45
“Not far from the Meisner mountain in Hesse stands a high precipice with a cavern under it, which goes by the name of the hollow stone. Into this cavern every Easter Monday the youths and maidens of the neighbouring villages carry bouquets, and then draw some cooling water. No one will venture down unless he has flowers with him. The lands in some Hessian townships have to pay a bunch of flowers every year for rent.”
~Jacob Grimm
❁ᛉ❁
~Jacob Grimm
❁ᛉ❁


19.04.202516:49
The Lady of the Mountain (Fjallkonan) is the personification of the nation of Iceland. She has a long and storied tradition in both Iceland, where my family hails from, and Canada, where we live today.
Hail to the sons and daughters of Iceland!
-H 🐦⬛🌸
Hail to the sons and daughters of Iceland!
-H 🐦⬛🌸


18.04.202517:45
My Manx-Scottish 7th great-grandmother, Anne.
Hail my noble ancestors!
- 🦉
Hail my noble ancestors!
- 🦉


post.reposted:
Stiðen Āc Heorð

18.04.202513:20
The name Herne is a byname of Woden, used in his role as Hunter or Warrior-leader. The name is believed to come from the OE Herian (Warrior-leader) which is connected with the German term Haranni, Herne the Hunter still haunts the Windsor Forest and the Great Park in Berkshire.
Herne Protect Us!
Image - Herne the Hunter by George Cruikshank (1792 - 1878)
Herne Protect Us!
Image - Herne the Hunter by George Cruikshank (1792 - 1878)


post.reposted:
Stiðen Āc Heorð

18.04.202513:19
Hymn to Woden
- William Lisle Bowles (24 September 1762 – 7 April 1850).
God of the battle, hear our prayer!
By the lifted falchion's glare;
By the uncouth fane sublime,
Marked with many a Runic rhyme;
By the 'weird sisters' dread,
That, posting through the battle red,
Choose the slain, and with them go
To Valhalla's halls below,
Where the phantom-chiefs prolong
Their echoing feast, a giant throng,
And their dreadful beverage drain
From the skulls of warriors slain:
God of the battle, hear our prayer;
And may we thy banquet share!
Save us, god, from slow disease;
From pains that the brave spirit freeze;
From the burning fever's rage;
From wailings of unhonoured age,
Drawing painful his last breath;
Give us in the battle death!
Let us lift our glittering shield,
And perish, perish in the field!
Now o'er Cumri's hills of snow
To death, or victory, we go;
Hark! the chiefs their cars prepare;
See! they bind their yellow hair;
Frenzy flashes from their eye,
They fly--our foes before them fly!
Woden, in thy empire drear,
Thou the groans of death dost hear,
And welcome to thy dusky hall
Those that for their country fall!
Hail, all hail the godlike train,
That with thee the goblet drain;
Or with many a huge compeer,
Lift, as erst, the shadowy spear!
Whilst Hela's inmost caverns dread
Echo to their giant tread,
And ten thousand thousand shields
Flash lightning o'er the glimmering fields!
Hark! the battle-shouts begin--
Louder sounds the glorious din:
Louder than the ice's roar,
Bursting on the thawing shore;
Or crashing pines that strew the plain,
When the whirlwinds hurl the main!
Riding through the death-field red,
And singling fast the destined dead,
See the fatal sisters fly!
Now my throbbing breast beats high--
Now I urge my panting steed,
Where the foemen thickest bleed.
Soon exulting I shall go,
Woden, to thy halls below;
Or o'er the victims, as they die,
Chant the song of Victory!
- William Lisle Bowles (24 September 1762 – 7 April 1850).
God of the battle, hear our prayer!
By the lifted falchion's glare;
By the uncouth fane sublime,
Marked with many a Runic rhyme;
By the 'weird sisters' dread,
That, posting through the battle red,
Choose the slain, and with them go
To Valhalla's halls below,
Where the phantom-chiefs prolong
Their echoing feast, a giant throng,
And their dreadful beverage drain
From the skulls of warriors slain:
God of the battle, hear our prayer;
And may we thy banquet share!
Save us, god, from slow disease;
From pains that the brave spirit freeze;
From the burning fever's rage;
From wailings of unhonoured age,
Drawing painful his last breath;
Give us in the battle death!
Let us lift our glittering shield,
And perish, perish in the field!
Now o'er Cumri's hills of snow
To death, or victory, we go;
Hark! the chiefs their cars prepare;
See! they bind their yellow hair;
Frenzy flashes from their eye,
They fly--our foes before them fly!
Woden, in thy empire drear,
Thou the groans of death dost hear,
And welcome to thy dusky hall
Those that for their country fall!
Hail, all hail the godlike train,
That with thee the goblet drain;
Or with many a huge compeer,
Lift, as erst, the shadowy spear!
Whilst Hela's inmost caverns dread
Echo to their giant tread,
And ten thousand thousand shields
Flash lightning o'er the glimmering fields!
Hark! the battle-shouts begin--
Louder sounds the glorious din:
Louder than the ice's roar,
Bursting on the thawing shore;
Or crashing pines that strew the plain,
When the whirlwinds hurl the main!
Riding through the death-field red,
And singling fast the destined dead,
See the fatal sisters fly!
Now my throbbing breast beats high--
Now I urge my panting steed,
Where the foemen thickest bleed.
Soon exulting I shall go,
Woden, to thy halls below;
Or o'er the victims, as they die,
Chant the song of Victory!
post.reposted:
Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)

16.04.202515:54
"It is a mistake to think of Paganism as a religion. With dogma and doctrine with which you adhere. The literal definition of Pagan is Ethnic, when you "Go Pagan" you are becoming more aware of your own heritage and nature. Just as the same faces, temperaments, proclivities and instincts persist in a people so too do the Gods. They are the constant of the People.
The part of them that is ever present, experiencing everything alongside their people. The Divine Relatives of the Race. Hades has no more love for a German than Wotan does for a Greek. Just as any Good Father would not side against their Son, neither will the Gods take sides against their people. Just as tempests, twisters, romance, rapture, forests and fury are ever shifting constants so too are the people and their Gods.
To go Pagan, return to your Roots, your Race. All else is hyperbole and romanticism in the face of fleeting contemporary tastes. You can no more choose your God than you can choose your Forebears. You are what you are, you may deny it, run from it, even fear and shun it. But in the end you cannot escape and why should you want too!?
What the Gods offer is not subservience but Freedom and Glory! The endless revelry of Life as part of that grand sweeping entity that is your Kin and Kind.
What could be more beautiful than that?" - I.M.Knosp
-
Art: Nuada Carved by Irish Artist Jan Campbell From an Avocado Stone
☘️Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)🦌
The part of them that is ever present, experiencing everything alongside their people. The Divine Relatives of the Race. Hades has no more love for a German than Wotan does for a Greek. Just as any Good Father would not side against their Son, neither will the Gods take sides against their people. Just as tempests, twisters, romance, rapture, forests and fury are ever shifting constants so too are the people and their Gods.
To go Pagan, return to your Roots, your Race. All else is hyperbole and romanticism in the face of fleeting contemporary tastes. You can no more choose your God than you can choose your Forebears. You are what you are, you may deny it, run from it, even fear and shun it. But in the end you cannot escape and why should you want too!?
What the Gods offer is not subservience but Freedom and Glory! The endless revelry of Life as part of that grand sweeping entity that is your Kin and Kind.
What could be more beautiful than that?" - I.M.Knosp
-
Art: Nuada Carved by Irish Artist Jan Campbell From an Avocado Stone
☘️Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)🦌


post.reposted:
ᛉ Sagnamaðr Stark ᛉ

16.04.202515:53
This bronze figure from Haute-Saône, eastern France, is very similar to the depiction of Ostara on the Osta-stone, with antlers and a cornucopia. It’s been proposed to be a Gallo-Roman image of Fortuna syncretized with Cernunnos, but perhaps it’s a Romano-Germanic image of Ostara.
post.reposted:
Stiðen Āc Heorð

16.04.202511:22
The word ‘giddy’ has an interesting origin. From the OE gydiġ the word essentially means ‘to be possessed by a god’, Gyd meaning the same as god.
Another OE word which seems to have a similar meaning is Ylfig or being possessed or controlled by an ælf (elf). In English lore seiðr was also considered an elvish practise. The word is attested in the OE ælfsīden meaning elf magic.
Another OE word which seems to have a similar meaning is Ylfig or being possessed or controlled by an ælf (elf). In English lore seiðr was also considered an elvish practise. The word is attested in the OE ælfsīden meaning elf magic.


post.reposted:
ᛉ Sagnamaðr Stark ᛉ

15.04.202513:59
A clay tablet was found in Hohenstein, Lower Saxony, in the 16th Century with a likely depiction of Ostara. Hohenstein was an important cult site since the early Iron Age, and the use of the Younger Futhark suggests an age of around the 8th Century. She is depicted with horns, a drinking horn or cornucopia, and what may be a bird. The location of the original is unknown, only sketches survive. The incomplete inscription reads;
“You go out, that’s Osta, loosen icy frosts…
You good Osta, from your face shines…”
“thu ga ut thatr os ta louse isin frosta
dhu gautar osta, ous il sin grosta”
ᚦᚢ × ᚴᛅ × ᚢᛏ × ᚦᛅᛏᚱ × ᚬᛋ ᛏ × ᛚᚬᚢᛋᛁ × ᛁᛋᛁᚾ × ᚠᚱᚬᛋᛏᛅ
ᛏᚼᚢ × ᚴᛅᚢᛏᛅᚱ × ᚬᛋᛏᛅ × ᚬᚢᛋ × ᛁᛚ × ᛋᛁᚾ × ᚴᚱᚬᛋᛏᛅ
❁ᛉ❁
“You go out, that’s Osta, loosen icy frosts…
You good Osta, from your face shines…”
“thu ga ut thatr os ta louse isin frosta
dhu gautar osta, ous il sin grosta”
ᚦᚢ × ᚴᛅ × ᚢᛏ × ᚦᛅᛏᚱ × ᚬᛋ ᛏ × ᛚᚬᚢᛋᛁ × ᛁᛋᛁᚾ × ᚠᚱᚬᛋᛏᛅ
ᛏᚼᚢ × ᚴᛅᚢᛏᛅᚱ × ᚬᛋᛏᛅ × ᚬᚢᛋ × ᛁᛚ × ᛋᛁᚾ × ᚴᚱᚬᛋᛏᛅ
❁ᛉ❁


post.reposted:
Vinnie Sullivan

14.04.202513:03
I have always been a lamp person. I can not stand sitting in bright lights as if I were in some kind of sports stadium or hospital wing. Comfort is a homely feeling that offers one a sense of permanence as opposed to feeling as though you're just passing through.


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