Prompt: And tomorrow morning in one of the taverns of Elath
you won't even know who's in bed with you.
And you put ten talent coins in her palm,
she will smile back like from Botticelli's paintings
Your friends, the wolves of the sea, walked all night
and drank Shede, and caressed the port hetaerae...
But the Clotho calls to set off again -
because the ship does not tolerate women, but loves the wind...
You saw your dream on the tops
of the mountains and sailed after it, checking the compass on the star charts
Neither the pleas nor the crying
of the young maidens overboard far from the sands of Jakarta touched your heart...
One day you will still find your crazy paradise -
another sea at the very edge of the universe
And rum will burn your soul into ashes of longing and sadness
when you fall into the arms of salty foam...
And you will remember that morning in one of the trading ports,
that red-haired beast, as if from Botticelli's paintings
But you will realize too late that she was love,
and you were so close to your dream and cherished goal...
Prompt: The night treads like a feather on wavy dunes
Pomegranate core stars are dripping juice from the sky
And my longing in silk is traveling with a caravan
Through a shaky memory, through the past or the non-past
The copper of the moon is polished by the wind-a wandering dervish
And the fire fills all the temples with grace...
but why are you broadcasting trouble, blind priest,
As a gift to the gods by spilling sesame wine?
And an old man in white robes said softly:
"Take your Cheri away, let Mitre help you
The dogs of the desert are already close, I hear a frenzied howl
The shameful death of Parsi* worries my soul."..
The manes of the black horses turned white from salt -
The steeds of two lovers saved from death
The desert shook with crying and pain
The dogs were running at their heels in bloody steel...
Also, the night of the gentle peri wanders somewhere in the dunes
Pomegranate core stars are dripping juice from the sky
And my longing in silk is traveling with a caravan
Through a shaky memory, through the past or the non-past...
Prompt: I've seen more than a dozen bays,
swallowed sea sand and salt waves
He counted ducats, drachmas, pounds, lira -
the ships were full of treasures....
I forgot myself in pubs, taverns,
drank rum, retsina, pulque, spicy ale.
He prayed to the devil, swore very badly
and visited a brothel in every bay...
I was caressed by sultry creoles,
mestizos, sambo, red-haired Hrodwin
I knew a lot about military affairs,
I was lucky, but I did not know love...
I gave diamonds to dirty beggars
"Warships", "Barges" boarded
I freed slaves, shared food,
but it all seemed like my life was a mirage...
I despised betrayal and greed,
spat in the face of viscounts, kings
On the gallows, after hanging around a little,
I ran to my Buccaneer friends...
And now I look into the eyes of a wandering death
/ she does not need gold or silk/
I understood a lot about this whirlwind,
drinking a bottle of rum in three gulps...
The death of the crucified Messiah is in vain -
the crowd is full of rage as before
In the sublunary world, the same forces rule,
where fornication is held in high esteem, money and war...
Prompt: Mirrors, or maybe a door
The darkness instills fear
Dreams are colored confetti
Memory will jump into silence
Who am I? A traveler or a guest?
Many people are not given to understand
Codes of strange Arabesques
A careful, wild beast
There is an ancient coat of arms on the ring
Time erases everything
There is no way back
Who am I? A traveler or a guest?
The Milky Way, a handful of constellations
There is a seal on the lips of Heaven
Stars with cracked frescoes
Mirrors, or maybe a door...
Prompt: collection of different-sized glass paperweights arranged on an old, worn oak desk, incredibly valuable objets d'art created by the foremost glass blowers, some paperweights featuring equisitely crafted, highly detailed murano glass flower bouquets, others an imaginary underwater garden and coral reefs, one paperweight is filled with an intriguingly ornate liquid mercury smoke shape, breathtaking detail.
Prompt: da vinci technical sketch of Prophet Isaiah standing in front of an altar of burning coal, hyper-detailed drawing on vintage paper; Hyperrealistic, splash art, concept art, matte painting, wide shot, intricately detailed, color depth, dramatic, natural background
Prompt: beautiful glass light-filled transparent tree house, victorian style,a few steps to climb to get in, in a large park area, polished, Jacek Yerka, Thomas Kincaid, Guido Borelli da Caluso, Catherine Abel
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.