Italian Necronomicon

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    (Necronomicon) Abdul to Azreq

    Al azif(Necronomicon)di Abdul al Azreq

    Translated from the Italian by Franc is WHutterAt azif (Necronomicon) - Italian translation of version translated in greek by Theophylact.

    BOOK I

    1

    In his faulty translation Teodoro remembered the words: "Take care that you do not know the day

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    nor the hour" 1 2 to justify the need to know who you are waiting. Translation, however, that it was not

    complete nor faithful Teodoro perhaps because he had not had the courage to write it all or do not think

    it necessary: even so, however, seemed too damn the Patriarch Michael that were burnt by now twenty

    years ago.

    Now I Theophylactus, those who contemptuously call Euchites, also called 5 piaaaiov3

    because, before being Euchita, worked to caulk ships in the arsenal of Byzantium, I translated tonew to us the book of Arabic. I brought everything in greek omitting nothing to fear nor to alter anything

    horror. I reported all because before we had tried the Arab street that we seek. Before we had found

    keys that open doors that have been long forgotten.

    Remember that what is forgotten by most is not only for this, necessarily dead. The doors are still

    out there and there's anyone that can wait. Before us, the Arab had opened the door and he saw: and

    why was called crazy.

    But we know what we have to do because who must return can enter. The day is coming when we

    will come Who will know how to recognize their loyal ... 4

    In the year of the Hegira ... 5 during the reign of Caliph Hisham, on him is not the blessing of

    Allah6, I, Abdul al Azraq, later. the last events of the life of my master I am going to

    write, according to his instructions, what we have learned together because they remain as a lesson for

    those who want to get into the treacherous sea and stormy where my teacher probably foundered after

    visiting strange islands and seas even stranger, but above all as a warning for those awful You could have

    the mad recklessness of the fate groped without being sure of his own ship and not have good cards and

    good sailors. For she said, the teacher on our path already companions and guides may have appearance

    and powers to incinerate the heart and minds firmer more solid and stable; then also he said that of the

    many possible obstacles and enemies was better not to speak.

    Myself that - I met him a few years after I was caught with my ship and I was the clerk at 7 ... and I

    was his fellow student, of meditations, visions and those people, who for Luck does not come even

    remotely imagine, called follies, for almost forty long years until the last events of a few months ago - I

    myself can not say I know how far he had gone and what monstrous fellow pilgrims have accepted, andwhat unspeakable price, because often, in front of moments which obviously thought that I would not

    be able to endure, left me in a spectator and went on alone. And I can assure you that already those that

    I knew would be enough to drown miserably in terror more overwhelming all those who consider

    themselves wise.

    1 The beginning of the page is unreadable.

    2 (Mt 24: 42). And characteristic of Abdul his use of quotes by famous classical texts in a way that, at

    first glance, may seem misleading. Continuing the reading and entering the mentality is seen,

    however, that the quotes used to the way of Abdul actually have their own logic that, even if strange,

    does not fail to its own coherence. It can appreciate how, under the veil of evidence Abdul has

    discovered and would like to suggest the existence of a level of underground reality far more

    poisonous than what we used to know.

    3 What we can make in Italian as "pitch".

    4 The rest of the text is difficult to recover.

    5 appear to have been intentionally deleted all the information necessary to trace a more precise

    localization in space and time. Abrasions should be very old.

    6 Perhaps this change in the curse of the traditional blessing of the Arab is not imputarsiad translation

    errors or copying and can be explained by recalling that Abdul in his last years did not worship Allah

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    but of describing in his book.

    7 Here it is the historical reference was deleted.

    Now what he had expected and anticipated and feared seems to have occurred.

    When we left Damascus six months ago to find the ruins of a city that in our visions had seenscattered in the sands of Rub'al Khali8 made me swear that, if we had found it, I would have stayed out

    of the ruins and would return home to write what we had learned, leaving his inevitable fate if I had

    seen a signal that would have made me understand that it was useless to wait yet, or worse, investigate

    his fate.

    Arrived near the ruins and you can believe that if you do not say where they are not to desire to

    remain the sole possessor of knowledge that I'd rather not have: Please contrary to the good of all who

    remain unknown and hidden from men and that the One who sleeps below them was not too bothered

    by the visit of the teacher we were met by a storm of wind, walked in front of us and he had to be home

    and body of some intelligence not just in the world who know the poor portals: before him in fact the

    desert animals fleeing frightened was not the case with the normal desert winds. My teacher said that it

    was the guide that should have followed to get where he wanted, did before him the necessary acts of

    homage and made himself known as a man who knows who he's dealing with and who is willing to

    accept it as a guide with all that frightening and irrevocable a similar contract entails.

    The turbines led us right in front of the ruins of what once, but I dread to think how long ago, had

    been a city. At this point I realized that it was time to stop and it would be useless to try to convince my

    teacher to let me go with him. I stayed where I was, on a small hill on the edge of the ruins that lay

    ahead of me up to a cliff of rocks that closed the horizon and where the graves were dug.

    Do not ask me to describe what little I saw of the ruins for most covered up because their only

    remembrance causes me a feeling of discomfort and distress from which one is attacked when you

    realize that it has lifted a veil that had to be lowered and that It is not relieved by the awareness of not

    being able to see much of what the veil hiding. We will never be sure in fact that who is on the otherside of the veil has not seen us and has decided to focus its attention inconceivable.

    In the light of the waning moon my partner is forwarded in the city and across the ruins still

    following the whirlwind that I kept seeing swirling above the ruins. The turbines then stopped in front of

    a crack in the rock wall over the ruins in an area that the graves seemed to have deliberately avoided. As

    far as could be judged from the point where I was the opening seemed too regular to be natural

    although, to be built by human hands, had the form and proportions especially well strange. However I

    saw my master come crawling in Split and turbines soar along the wall and dissolve.

    Seven days I was waiting at the edge of the field of mind-blowing vestiges that seemed to have the

    power to vary between a dark aspect of harmless normal and the feeling of complete and blasphemous

    strangeness that you could try if you were sitting in front of objects clearly manufactured and you know

    that are not the work of humans.During the night of the seventh day, because it was dark of the new moon ... the vortex reformed

    before the infamous opening now that I knew to be the gateway to unimaginable depths, not built by

    human beings in times of antiquity imagined for purposes not it is good to deepen and guarded by

    entities which man, luckily for him, not even suspect the existence. He crossed back across the field of

    ruins to a stop in front of me at that mo ment I heard his precise

    8 Perhaps this city remained a distant memory transfigured in Arabic legends that tell of the city of

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    Iram (also called the City of copper or the City of a thousand columns) built by Shaddad the crowds in

    the desert of Arabia and submerged by divine wrath to punish the pride of Shaddad but still exists

    somewhere under the sands. Is remembered among other things from the Arabian Nights (from 275

    to 279 nights, Einaudi, 1969) and Omar Khayyam (quatrain 272, Einaudi, 1963) as well as by the Koran

    (89, 6).

    will that drove me away from the city and I realized that it was useless to continue to wait for my

    teacher. In one way or another he had found what he sought.

    I loaded it then of the few things we had brought with us, rendered homage to being the vortex and

    taken the road to Damascus.

    In the months that followed I worked frantically to re-read and study our diaries and everything we

    had put together over many years of work. The few hours of sleep I allow myself are increasingly

    populated by nightmares, visits of beings unmentionable which fortunately I can never see clearly. Now,

    however, I know very well who they are, who sent them and what they want from me; What I know now

    that sleeping under the city did not escape my presence in front of him and knows where to find me. I

    also do not have much time to say all that I h