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#felix semper
fidjiefidjie · 6 months
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😉 Étonnant, non ⁉️
Sculpture élastique en papier 🫠 de Felix Semper
Bel après-midi 👋
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theblackestofsuns · 9 months
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"Your Best Friend"
Semper Fi #8 (July 1989)
Michael P. Palladino, Andy Kubert, John Severin and Phil Felix
Marvel Comics
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assortedseaglass · 1 month
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Talk Refined - Chapter Two
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Michael Gavey x Reader
[Masterlist]
Summary: When Michael Gavey unwittingly insults a fellow Oxford student, they enter into a game of intellectual cat and mouse.
Content Warnings (this chapter in bold): Language, Smut, Saltburn Spoilers
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Esme did not let you live your encounter with Michael Gavey down.
“You should have heard her. Like she was interviewing all over again!” At any given opportunity, she took the chance to tell the story of how her best friend had shot down the genius from Brasenose.
“Esme, everyone’s heard this story a hundred times,” you’d said when she once again brought the matter up at the pub. “And anyway, he didn’t even reply when I shouted at him. Just said he needed a piss.” People at the table tittered. Michael’s reputation as a genius made had its way around the university’s colleges. Mainly because he was the one telling them.
It was a fact begrudgingly agreed upon at each recounting of the tale. Esme would tell her college mates, or new friends at the pub, the story of you and Michael getting into a fight, and inevitably they would say “The self-proclaimed genius?”
“The maths nerd?”
“That dickhead?”
Before resigning to the fact that, despite his arrogance, Michael Gavey really was a genius.
“Didn’t you hear him shouting at dining hall first night?”
“Heard he got 100% on the maths admissions test!”
“Pretty funny really. If he wasn’t such a twat I’d invite him out, he’s great entertainment.”
Luckily for you, the spectre of his reputation loomed larger than the man himself who, since your encounter at the pub, you had not seen. Perhaps he was too embarrassed after his very public rejection. More likely, it was because you were preparing for your extended essay deadline. Burrowed in your room at the desk, or else tucked in a dark corner of the library, Esme almost had to drag you to leave your room these days.
“Should have done something on Gentileschi,” you muttered into the open book on the library table. Your endless studying on the use of women as decoration that formed the basis of your essay was slowly crushing you. “Wanted to do a feminist essay but this is fucking depressing.”
Esme shifted in her seat next to you, leant over your book to look at the pictures on the open page, then pushed it from your view. Before you could protest, she spoke.
“One minute not looking at that dull picture,” she gestured to the image of Turner’s Reclining Nude on a Bed, “-isn’t gonna hurt you. But I’ll tell you what won’t be depressing. My end of year party!” Esme grabbed your shoulders and shook you.
You laughed, stifling it behind your hand when a few pug-nosed students frowned at you.
“I thought you’d settled for a cheese and wine night? ‘Sophisticated with a chance of minor sluttiness’,” you quoted her and she winked.
“Yeah, well, it’ll still be a cheese and wine night,” she opened another textbook and riffled through the pages absent-mindedly. “With slightly more wine than cheese-”
“And about sixty people.”
“Only after the meal! Had to take the chance and get in there before Catton. No-one’d come otherwise.” Esme’s face dropped, a flash of worry crossing her bonny face at the prospect of competing with Felix Catton for the Party of the Year.
“It’ll be grand,” you grabbed her hand reassuringly. “Who wants Catton’s friends there anyway? Load of stuck-up snobs-”
“You sound like Gavey!”
You shot an irritated look at Esme. She grinned back and busied herself with the work in front of her. You looked at the title scribbled across the top of the page. “Semper femina: misogyny’s early beginnings.”. You really picked a corker when you saw her at the humanities social. You nudged her shoulder affectionately, rubbing off her last comment and, still a little distracted, look around the library.
Not all libraries in Oxford had vaulted ceilings of ancient oak, or were decorated with elaborately carved roses. Some had harsh fluorescent lighting and tiled navy carpets. It just so happened that you and Esme preferred the grander of buildings. So too, did most other students. When dedication and inspiration waned, the quickest way to feel inspired was to pop to the libraries with ancient tomes alongside the course textbooks, sharing silent exchanges with other students gazing in awe at the latticed windows and rows of paper possibility.
“By the way,” Esme whispered, not due to the setting but what she was about to say next. “Who are you bringing?”
Your eyes didn’t flicker from the book in front of you. “Bringing where?”
“To the cheese and wine party,”
You looked at her, a mixture of exasperation and amusement on your face. “Since when did I have to bring someone?”
“Well,” Esme fully turned in her seat to look at you. “You don’t, but I’m bringing Eleanor-”
“Pretty girl from the pub.”
Esme nodded and continued counting people on her fingers. “Laura’s boyfriend is visiting that weekend, Holly’s bringing some rugby lad, Joe’s best mate is coming and the other three all have boyfriends. Bit sad if you’re the loner.”
“How can I be a loner at a party?”
“You know what I mean! Come on, it’s the end of the year, loosen up a bit. Doesn’t have to be a bloke, just pick someone!”
You thought a moment. Though you hated to admit it, Michael Gavey had been right; a lot of the people on your History of Art course were public school wankers and horsey girls fast-tracked to jobs in their parents’ cosmopolitan art galleries.
Nope. No-one there you could bring, and all of Esme’s friends were already going.
“I don’t know!” You despaired, slumping back in your seat comically in mock defeat.
Esme laughed. “Tell you what, next person that comes round that corner,” she pointed to the last bookshelf of a long row, right by the library entrance. “You’ve got to take. Deal?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll buy your cheese and wine for the night.”
You stared at her. Trinity term was almost up, and so too was your scholarship loan. “Fine.”
Esme laughed excitedly and stared excitedly at the shelves. You did so with apprehension. A minute passed and no-one rounded the corner. A group of gorgeous boys left the library, but not one person entered.
“Looks like you’ll be coming alone after all.” You pinched Esme’s side and she giggled. “Aha!” She pointed behind you and your stomach dropped. Turning slowly, you faced your fate. Date.
A wizened old man no taller that the fourth shelf shuffled along the wooden floor, his worn leather shoes squeaking with every step. There were more lines on his face than the tube map.
“No.”
“Don’t be a bitch!”
“People don’t want their fucking lecturers there, Esme.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But it has to be the next person or my share of the food is on you.”
“Fine.”
You both stared at the bookshelf. The wizened old man shuffled past you, and soon the sound of his leather shoes faded. You glanced over your shoulder at Esme. “This is stupid-”
“Oh. My. God.” Esme was looking past you, and what had momentarily been shock was turning to unbridled glee.
“What?” You span in your chair. “No. Absolutely not.” Panic prickled the hairs of your neck. You whipped back to face Esme. She was laughing. “I can’t. Fuck. No!”
“This is brilliant,” Esme clapped her hands together. Some students shushed her and she sent them a two fingered salute.  “He’s coming this way! Go on, ask him!”
You took a deep breath and, with growing unease, turned to face your unknowing date.
Michael Gavey was walking stiffly along the rows of bookshelves. The muscles of his jaw were set in a tight line; he wasn’t here to browse; he knew what he wanted and was making his determined way towards it. You watched him carefully, waiting until the perfect moment to speak. How the hell were you going to ask?
“Let’s wait a minute-” Esme made to cut you off but you continued quickly. “Just to see where he goes. I don’t want to ask in front of everyone.”
Esme huffed but nodded, and you both went back to watching him.
“This feels creepy,” you said, watching as he got closer.
“All we’re doing is looking at him.” Esme said matter of factly. But that wasn’t quite true. It felt altogether more like you were studying him. Something about Michael Gavey meant you couldn’t look away.
Just as when you last saw him, his clothes looked second hand. Or like something an aunt would by. A crisp, short-sleeved shirt, starchly ironed, tucked into a pair of beige cargo trousers. Vile. Around his belt swung a number of carabiners, one containing his keys, another a collection of USB sticks. They jangled as he walked past.
You ducked your head to avoid being seen. Esme scoffed. You kicked her under the table.
The two of you watched his retreating back. You noticed you weren’t the only ones looking at him. A few other students, some boys smirking and some girls, were watching him to. None indicated that they knew him personally, for none sent him a smile or a wave. They simply watched as he passed. His reputation really did precede him.
You tried to think on what it was that made Michael Gavey so hard to ignore. He had done nothing today but enter the library and, by now, everyone knew him to be a stuck-up knobhead. So what was it that was making everyone stare?
Perhaps it was the rigidity with which he walked, so upright and solid. For one so thin, you imagined that if someone bumped into him now he would just continue walking as though nothing happened. Maybe it was the unnerving way in which his grey eyes stared. You remembered them from before. How he analysed people, unblinking, as he spoke to them, dissecting every minutia of their movement behind his glasses.
Could it be, that underneath the dreadful clothes and frankly alarming attitude, he was quite handsome? You blushed at the thought and turned away from Esme.
In another life, with better clothes, better glasses, a kinder face, he might have been attractive. Afterall, his hair was that Gisele Bündchen colour girls in your sixth form tried unsuccessfully to get from the bottle. His face was all angles, like the bassist in some boy band. Not front man handsome, but with a little something that appealed to the weird girls. And he was tall. God, was he tall. Not Felix Catton tall, but after him he’d been the tallest at the pub. You remembered the way he’s unfurled his body uncomfortably from the chair. Even now, he was almost half the height of some of the old bookshelves. When he came to a stop, depositing his Tesco carrier bag on the table with a rustle, his shoulder bumped into one of the shelves, and you noticed how broad they were, accentuated by the black leather belt holding up his trousers. Who’d have thought it? Michael Gavey vaguely good-looking. Shame he was a prick.
“There you go,” Esme whispered in your ear as Michael disappeared between two shelves. “Perfect chance.”
Your mouth went dry. You’d momentarily forgotten the reason you were both watching Michael. Sensing your apprehension, Esme turned you by the shoulder and looked you deep in the eye. “It’s fine, I’ll help.” She was loving this, and the two of you spent the next five minutes working out how to approach the Bastard from Brasenose.
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You tried to get rid of Esme as quietly as possible.
“Just let me do it on my own!” you hissed.
“I don’t trust you, not after last time!” She was pushing you towards the bookshelf Michael was browsing. You were digging your feet in.
“Please, just let me-”
“No,” Esme giggled, pushing you closer to the shelves. “You’ll either have an argument or not ask at all. I want to see this.”
Your hand gripped the wooden bookcase just as you arrived and blocked her from going any further. She pushed against you, trying to force you towards Michael.
“I’ll do it, Esme, just give me a second!”
“Just get on with it, for God’s sake!” she whispered with a shove.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me!”
“Can I help you?”
You both jolted. Michael was staring at you, his hands balled into fists at his side. He looked…nervous. Esme had clearly pushed you closer to him than you’d thought.
“No, er, sorry,” you took a step backwards only to be blocked by Esme.
“Oh,” Michael relaxed a little, a tight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s you.”
You stared at him. “You don’t need to sound so offended by my presence.”
“You’re the one stumbling around the library hissing like a banshee.”
You were about to retort when Esme caught your arm warningly. You looked back at her with annoyance. She simply nodded at you and gestured to take a deep breath.
“Sorry, Michael,” you said. He flinched a little as you said his name, not that you noticed. Esme did. “Erm,”
“She has something she wants to ask you, Michael.”
“Ask me?”
Fucking hell, here goes. You tired to smile at him. He stared back blankly. Why did he make everything so bloody difficult?
“Yeah, um,” you stepped forward and leant against the bookshelf for support, to make it seem less formal. “Well, Esme is having an end of year party-”
“A dinner party,” Esme cut in.
“-and we wondered.”
“She wondered!”
“We wondered,” you said louder, drowning out your friend. “If you’d like to come? Maybe?”
Michael stared at you. His head jerked almost imperceptibly, as if it had suddenly fallen out with his neck, and he scoffed quietly. “Is this a joke?”
“What?” You and Esme said together.
“Are you taking the piss?”
“What? No-”
Michael placed the book he was reading back on the shelf and faced you both fully. “Get out of the way please, you’re blocking the exit.”
“Michael,” he stopped again when you said his name.
“Honestly, we’re not taking the piss.” Esme said kindly.
“We saw you come in, and Esme keeps reminding me what a bitch I was at the pub.” Never mind the fact that you were an absolute arsehole. “And we just thought, as a way to apologise, you might like to come to the party? Fresh start?”
“I don’t do parties.”
“It’s-a-cheese-and-wine-night-actually.” Esme said quickly.
“Right,” he continued staring at you. The longer he did it, the more you regretted asking. Fucking blink. He glanced quickly back at the shelves of books, and screwed his eyes tightly shut, as if working out something impossibly difficult. When he opened his eyes again, you weren’t sure whether he was going to scream or cry.
Then you realised he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking past you. With surprising force and speed, Michael pushed past the both of you.
“Oliver Quick.”
Esme looked at you with excitement. Without a word, you both hurried to the end of the bookcase. There he was. Oliver Quick, caught in a staring contest with Michael Gavey. Oliver glanced quickly at the two of you, eagerly poking your heads around the shelf to get the gossip.
Michael hadn’t noticed. “You look different.”
“Do I?” Oliver sounded bored and you wanted to smack him. What was it with the boys at Oxford? He turned away from you all, but Michael wasn’t done with him.
“He’ll get bored of you.” A pang of pity twisted your stomach. Esme had been right. Oliver’s abandonment at the pub had hurt Michael more than he let on.
Oliver stopped and turned around. “Excuse me?”
You glanced at Michael, waiting for his retaliation with bated breath. He said nothing.
“G’wan, Mikey,” Esme whispered.
Oliver walked away, but not before Michael could twist the dagger. “Bootlicker.” He enunciated every delicious, vicious syllable.
Oliver looked back again, only to cast an uncomfortable look at Michael and see Esme swearing at him behind Michael’s back. “For that Michael,” she clapped her hands. “You can be guest of honour!”
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Notes: Short one this time but I’m getting back into writing by doing shorter chapters. SO excited to write the party.
Tags: @lexwolfhale* @theoneeyedprince @lovebittenbyevans @fan-goddess @ellrond @very-straight-blog @arcielee @tsujifreya @liv-cole @myfandomprompts @annoyingkittydetective* @elizarbell @solisarium @thekinslayersswordhand @nightdiamond8663* @slowlysparklyninja* @kate-to-the-ki @bellaisasleep @xxxkat3xxx @lacebvnny @moonriseoverkyoto @ewanmitchellcrumbs @moonlightfoxx @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @st-eve-barnes @sapphire-writes @babyblue711 @targaryenrealnessdarling @slytherincursebreaker @bottlesandbarricades @valeskafics @anjelicawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @barbieaemond @chattylurker @itbmojojoejo @humanpurposes @cyeco13 @heimtathurs @in-a-mountain-pool @aemondsfavouritebastard @marysucks-blog @rheaxes @xivilivix
*could not tag
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turangalila · 3 months
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Gioan Pietro del Buono (fl. 1640) Obligo sopra Ave Maris Stella à 4 [Canoni, oblighi et sonate in varie maniere sopra l’Ave maris stella; a tre, quattro, cinque, sei, sette, et otto voci e le sonate a quattro. (Palermo, A. Martarello & S. d'Angelo, 1641)]
Ave, maris stella, / Dei Mater alma, / Atque semper Virgo, / Felix caeli porta.
The Magic of Polyphony Huelgas ensemble - Paul Van Nevel (2018, Deutsche Harmonia Mundi – 19075970012)
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virromanus · 9 days
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Latin Fairy Tales Series: 'Cinerellae'
Cinerella erat puella bona et misera, quae cum patre suo in magna domo habitabat. Pater eius duxit uxorem novam, quae duos filios habebat. Illa mulier maligna et filii eius crudeli erant erga Cinerellam. Eam in domo laborare iusserunt, ut ancilla.
Cinerella per diem multas labores patiebatur et per noctem in parvo cubiculo dormiebat, cinis in ore, unde nomen ei Cinerella.
Unum diem, rex magnus iubilum celebrabat. In omni regione, filii principum et nobilium ad festum invitabantur. Cinerella tristis erat, quod non poterat ire, et lachrimas fudit.
Subito, apparebat fata, quae Cinerellae pulchrum vestitum et calceos aureos dabat. "Hoc tibi dono," dixit, "sed ad festum reverti debes antequam media nox advenerit."
Cinerella gaudebat et ad festum properabat. Eius vestitus splendidus erat et calcei aurei fulgebant. Omnes mirabantur eam, nec cognoverunt eam propter pulchritudinem.
In festo, rex filium suum iubebat nuptias facere. Omnes puellae in spectaculo erant, sed rex non poterat reperire puellam, cuius pes calceus aureus aptus esset.
Tum Cinerella advenit et pedem suum ostendit. Calceus aureus ei erat aptus. Rex gavisus est et Cinerellam in uxorem duxit.
Cinerella regina facta est et multum felix vixit. Malus famulus et filii malitiosi eius familiam reliquerunt. Cinerella vero semper laeta et benigna mansit.
Finis
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mothgirlcharlie · 13 days
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felix ides martiae amici. in tartaris semper cruciet.
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dewapain · 4 months
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youtube
2004' Salem's lot is very underrated, especially by 1979' version's fans. BUT regardless one's preferences, 2004' version is worth watching too because of the soundtrack by Christopher Gordon and Lisa Gerrard (THAT Lisa Gerrard, who sang Now we are free from Gladiator). Here's an example - Mutans Evae nomen lyrics:
Ave, maris stella,
Dei Mater alma,
Atque semper Virgo
Felix coeli porta.
Sumens illud "Ave"
Gabriélis ore,
Funda nos in pace,
Mutans Evae nomen.
Hail, star of the sea,
nurturing Mother of God
and ever Virgin,
happy gate of heaven.
Receiving that Ave
from the mouth of Gabriel,
establish us in peace,
changing the name of Eve.
/translation by St. Cecilia's Abbey/
This is the first part of the hymn for Virgin Mary Ave, maris stella. In the 2004 miniseries/movie Salem's lot the track is played during Eva Miller's transformation into a vampire. Here, the author's intention might be ironic reference to St. Mary's life (as a "new, morally better Eve of the Old Testament").
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Художник Феликс Семпер (Felix Semper) создал растягивающийся бюст известного рэпера The Notorious B.I.G.
Вот это слинки!
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mariaportadoceu · 5 months
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Ave Maris Stella
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Ave, Maris Stella,
Dei mater alma,
Atque semper Virgo,
Felix caeli porta.
Sumens illud Ave,
Gabrielis ore,
Funda nos in pace
Mutans Evae nomen.
Solve vincla reis,
Profer lumen caecis,
Mala nostra pelle,
Bona cuncta posce.
Monstra te esse Matrem,
Sumat per te preces,
Qui pro nobis natus
Tulit esse tuus.
Virgo singularis,
Inter omnes mitis,
Nos, culpis solutos,
Mites fac et castos.
Vitam praesta puram,
Iter para tutum:
Ut, videntes Jesum,
Semper collaetemur.
Sit laus Deo Patri,
Summo Christo decus
Spiritui Sancto,
Tribus honor unus. Amen.
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Ave, do mar Estrela
De Deus mãe bela,
Sempre virgem, da morada
Celeste Feliz entrada.
Ó tu que ouviste da boca
Do anjo a saudação;
Dá-nos a paz e quietação;
E o nome da Eva troca.
As prisões aos réus desata.
E a nós cegos alumia;
De tudo que nos maltrata
Nos livra, o bem nos granjeia.
Ostenta que és mãe, fazendo
Que os rogos do povo seu
Ouça aquele que, nascendo
Pos nós, quis ser filho teu.
Ó virgem especiosa,
Toda cheia de ternura,
Extintos nossos pecados
Dá-nos pureza e bravura,
Dá-nos uma vida pura,
Põe-nos em vida segura,
Para que a Jesus gozemos,
E sempre nos alegremos.
A Deus Pai veneremos:
A Jesus Cristo também:
E ao Espírito Santo; demos
Aos três um louvor: Amém.
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llivellovedie · 5 months
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🖤Felix dies natalis mihi, iam non est 3:00 et ego iam fleo et suus non ex causa... Sit scriptor initium versionis 2.6 cum facie mea sepulta est in libro edens popcorn et clamans in silentio... Quia solitudo semper erat mihi sola societas ...
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theblackestofsuns · 9 months
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"I See Him!"
Semper Fi #7 (June 1989)
Michael P. Palladino, John Severin and Phil Felix
Marvel Comics
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turangalila · 2 years
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Philippe de Vitry (1291–1361) Petre Clemens tam re quam nomine / Lugentium siccentur occuli plaudant senes (Motette)
TRIPLUM Petre Clemens tam re quam nomine / cui nascenti donantis dextera / non defuit qui ymo cardine / e supremo beata munera / superes o felix ac omnia / quae reliqua celi benignitas / dare protest; nec defuit pia / pyeridum sacrarum dignitas / harum precellis vero dotibus / harum dono cuncta Germalia / carmentina pegasi pedibus / transvectus es a puericia; / aut fata vero aut ipsa prospera / te fortuna mellus spiritus / sublimavit ergo considera / quod Cephas es sed orbi deditus / quod monarcha, sed servus omnium / princeps orbis, sed orbis languidi / servus nempe sed delirantium / ac ne cui tandem sint perfidi / arte princeps serve dimelicum / torque fides mundialis celis / regnum tuum furorem tragicum / potens pie conpescere velis. / Absit tuo Tyestes tempore / et austerus, absint Thebaides / abutentes fraterno jecore; / unumque sint scissi Philipides / urben vide classis per equora / deterreat principes Thaneos / clangor turbe turcorum pectora / decipiant augures mempheos. / Consoletur tristis Armenia / et elatus succumbat Ismael / et germinet deserta Syria / et depressus resurgat Israel: / tunc nature gloriosissimus / triumphator tributum solvere / non dolebis heres legitimus / Jhesu Christe moriens libere: / et si desint marmor et gemula / ac metallum sculpenda sinceri / erit tandem tumulus vernula / semper fama pespondens operi / quam posceris prebebit regula / gubernandi faveant operi. // MOTETUS Lugentium siccentur occuli / plaudant senes exultent parvuli / umbre mortis quoniam regio / quos temnunt splendoris visio. / Est exorta radio spiritus / Clemens sextus sanctus divinitus / stupor orbis otersum speculum / ad formandum virtutummodulum / cirrei Syris Apollinis / pervasiti vigor certaminis / phitonistas horsis / ubere crapulatos solos / prosternere ac dum flectis / sermonis timpanum / corda rapis ad aurisorganum. / Petrus primus, Petrum non deseris / vices eius quia recte geris / tu clemens es et Clemens dixeris / pesagii qui fontis aperis / venas gratis vidis et rudibus / Athlanticis et Ethiopibus / stitis quoque quid in preconia / laudum mane sudatjusticia. / Non angentur memento secula / non mana tumescunt gutula / nec ulla laus addendere mentis / tuis unquam poterit inclitis / vulgi tamen modica porcio / de te saltem clangere gestio / vivat, vivat orbi perutilis / cui non est inventus tuus similis. //
_ Philippe de Vitry – Motets & Chansons Sequentia (1991, Deutsche Harmonia Mundi – 77095-2-RC)
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piouscatholic · 2 years
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Happy Birthday Blessed Loving Mama Mary🌻💐🌹🌻💐🌹🌻💐🌹🌻💐🌹
#AVEMARISSTELLA
Ave, maris stella,
Dei Mater alma,
Atque semper Virgo,
Felix caeli porta.
Sumens illud Ave
Gabrielis ore,
Funda nos in pace,
Mutans Evae nomen.
Solve vincla reis,
Profer lumen caecis,
Mala nostra pelle,
Bona cuncta posce
Monstra te esse matrem,
Sumat per te preces,
Qui pro nobis natus
Tulit esse tuus.
Virgo singularis,
Inter omnes mitis,
Nos culpis solutos,
Mites fac et castos.
Vitam praesta puram,
Iter para tutum,
Ut videntes Jesum,
Semper collaetemur.
Sit laus Deo Patri,
Summo Christo decus
Spiritui Sancto,
Tribus honor unus. Amen.
Hail, star of the sea,
loving Mother of God,
and also always a virgin,
Happy gate of heaven.
Receiving that Ave
from Gabriel's mouth
confirm us in peace,
Reversing Eva's name.
Break the chains of sinners,
Bring light to the blind,
Drive away our evils,
Ask for all good.
Show yourself to be a mother,
May he accept prayers through you,
he who, born for us,
Chose to be yours.
O unique virgin,
Meek above all,
Make us, absolved from sin,
Gentle and chaste.
Keep life pure,
Make the journey safe,
So that, seeing Jesus,
We may always rejoice together.
Let there be praise to God the Father,
Glory to Christ in the highest,
To the Holy Spirit,
One honor to all three. Amen.
#chantblogblogspotcom
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salus-in-arduis · 2 years
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A medieval French Jetton dating to the 15th century, with the inscription 'Ave Mari Stella dei Mater' (taken from a popular liturgical hymn of the day) on both faces in Lombardic script.
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AVE MARI STELLA DEI MATE+
"Ave maris stella" (Latin for 'Hail, star of the sea') is a medieval Marian hymn, usually sung at Vespers. It was especially popular in the Middle Ages and has been used by many composers as the basis of other compositions.
Ave, maris stella, Dei mater alma, atque semper virgo, felix cœli porta.
Hail, star of the sea, Nurturing Mother of God, And ever Virgin, Happy gate of Heaven.
Three-circles badge of Tournai with lis in each circle.
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