Prompt: Like a warrior, you are a brave, young man from a living legend. As for the hundredth time again in the war, white falls on the snow...
Come back alive to your mother and your faithful friend...
Prompt: Depict a landscape house against the backdrop of a picturesque mountain valley, mountains are visible in the distance, goats graze on the grass, realism style, high image quality
Prompt: I dream of the sea...masts...sails
And you are on the deck of a pirate schooner :)
In hope, your gaze caresses the heavens,
And the heart is waiting for the message of Fortune ...
Casually dressed in a light charm,
Putting on a drunken love impermanence
A sophisticated soul trembles -
You go boarding with hooliganism
I dream of piastres...The drunken parrot,
For rum, your secrets are blabbed
My captain, solve Morgan,
There is an image in it that has taken away peace forever
Probably, you and I are of different blood...
the moon is like Paracelsus in the night
Sadness-tear the string and do not regret it,
And let the memory of the past not yearn ...
With the dawn the ghostly fog will melt,
The outline of the ship will disappear
Leave your words...They're a dope
But you've made me restless again..
Prompt: The talisman of the proud Aryans* shines with the golden-eyed Moon,
The antiquity of the times is falling like gems under your feet
And the caravan of my dreams wanders along the sands alone
All trying to preserve the forgotten secret of the tribes...
The time of the three transitions curled up like a snake loop
Can someone overcome the dunes of quicksand?
The skies rustle through the centuries with silver brocade,
Revealing for a moment the majestic faces of the Gods...
Memory will quietly hide in the white palace from Khamsin**,
Under the guttural singing, the frost will fall to the ground...
That's where I remember the magical flight of the Simurg bird***
And why does the caravan of my dreams keep wandering and wandering...
Prompt: The yellow sugar of the dunes is bitter on withered lips
And the desert of time greets with a serpentine hiss
Then the caravan of my memory wanders in prophetic mysterious dreams
The faces in the centuries have worn away, and I do not remember the names…
Whose faces are there in the haze – Anubis *, or maybe Marduk *?
The mystery will hide in the trickles of quicksand treacherous
The wind of wandering sings... no, the duduk plays long
The song of the prophecy of the ancient ... whether true or false words
Ephemerality flows into the veins of an otherworldly fate
And the heart is worried under the canopy of royal stars
Suddenly I'll understand why I'm still sick of you…
The Tantra of our souls is holy to the point of pain, to the point of sincere tears
The thread is thinning... it crumbles right in your hands…
Is this a dream or a wild scorching deception of the mind?
The image melts in the moonlight before my eyes
A quiet whisper... "will you recognize me by keeping the talisman"…
Prompt: Autumn beats the moon gong and reads the runes,
Someone's boats are sailing along the rivers...
this red-haired witch sees and knows everything,
While the heather is blooming and the snow is not falling
Autumn - the red-haired beast dances like a bird,
He laughs like a strange beast in the swamps
Do not go into the forest at night, otherwise it will enchant
And the earth will turn into a dangerous swell
Autumn will tear off the grass and throw it on the fire
He will ask quietly: are you afraid of me? And she'll sigh...
you ask her today... She knows,
Where love has been waiting for you for a long time...
Autumn beats the moon gong and reads the runes
And the blows are getting louder and the nights are longer
Do not be sad about the past, it is slowly melting away
It's like a wedge of cranes beyond the sky line...
Prompt: There is great Power in the bizarre rune pattern
The shaman draws his mysterious stave on the sand
Descended Spirits are like a cobra in a throw - so beautiful!
And the lips are whispering something in the ancient dialect...
Understand, shaman, and enter into this ancient brotherhood
And the bright alves will open the veil of worlds
You will never see such wealth in your life.,
That in the song of their soul you will not find just words to sing
And if suddenly the dark army turns against you?
The harsh rekki will rise into a gloomy battle!
It doesn't matter what may happen to you, shaman
All the aces and vanes will follow you to the end...
Spin around, shaman, beat the rolling tambourine!
And the Tsvergs will teach you the art of craftsmanship
Let someone offend you, rudely say: "mad"
I'm sorry - they will never see that world in reality
There is great Power in the bizarre rune pattern
Descended Spirits are like a cobra in a throw - so beautiful!
Prompt: The yellow sugar of the dunes is bitter on withered lips
And the desert of time greets with a serpentine hiss
Then the caravan of my memory wanders in prophetic mysterious dreams
The faces in the centuries have worn away, and I do not remember the names…
Whose faces are there in the haze – Anubis *, or maybe Marduk *?
The mystery will hide in the trickles of quicksand treacherous
The wind of wandering sings... no, the duduk plays long
The song of the prophecy of the ancient ... whether true or false words
Ephemerality flows into the veins of an otherworldly fate
And the heart is agitated under the canopy of royal stars
Suddenly I'll understand why I'm still sick of you…
The Tantra of our souls is holy to the point of pain, to the point of sincere tears
The thread is thinning... it crumbles right in your hands…
Is this a dream or a wild scorching deception of the mind?
The image melts in the moonlight before my eyes
A quiet whisper... "will you recognize me by keeping the talisman"…
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: 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: 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: 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: Litta breathes the wormwood wind,
He cooks sweet cider in cauldrons...
cedars sang to me today
The Song of the White Walkers
The night is near, the night is coming soon
The clouds will freeze into the sky
The girl Lizka is waiting for Jon Snow,
But the road is far away...
Litta weaves herbs into braids,
The ferns in the thicket are tearing...
In the silence of the dawn, the dews whisper to me
About the Others that are behind the Wall
The night is near, the night is coming soon,
The clouds will freeze into the sky
The girl Lizka is waiting for Jon Snow,
But the road is far away...
The Magus Litta laughs like an owl,
Calamus of the swamp burns in the fire
She will drive away the King of the Night
So the Month told me...
The night is near, the night is coming soon,
The clouds will freeze into the sky
The Lizka girl will wait for Snow!
He will come to her from afar...
Prompt: MY OLD KEEPER...
My old Guardian, you have lived for many centuries
You've seen the Sarmatians and you know where the truth is, where the lies are
That's how winter used to breathe frost.
And the persimmon Moon was ringing in the sky on a branch...
My old Guardian, tell me an ancient myth
About the white horseman. About how the young Skiff fell
How the blood on the snow turned into an Iranian poppy,
The hot horses sped off into the midnight darkness...
My old Guardian, drink Shiraz with me
, Let's be silent, and then you will continue the story
How the white wolf blizzard was looking for a trail
And howled at the blue mountains until dawn came down
My old Guardian, tell me a secret -
Why are these strange shadows coming and following me?
The Sarmatians are harsh, the Scythians from the far wilderness
At night I hear the beating of their hearts and the call of their souls...
Old friend, you've been silent for so many centuries... among the bright constellations, you keep my gift tenderly...
Prompt: A 35-year-old woman is playing chess with a huge dragon. They are sitting on the edge of a high cliff
, the ground is visible below, the picture is of high quality, incredibly fantastic, luminous
Prompt: There are intoxicating datura herbs and the Spirit of Altai - a talisman
And where is the silhouette of the ancient argali on the rocks along the cliffs
In the tales and legends of the old Arhats of the wise, a trace is visible...
And at night I dream of the stars that hang over the lakes
Crazy winters, a riot of springs and Shambhala - that garden of Eden
I was born in the land of shamans - my abode and Eden ...
And the wonderful sound of a harp flows when your totem steals
Prompt: A shaman is a woman of Slavic appearance in the clothes of Altai shamans. It stands among the mountains, a golden stream pours down from the sky like a matrix of geometric shapes, a snow leopard walks along the mountains in the distance, a lake of sparkling surface is visible. The style is mythical realism, clear, beautiful, inimitable
Prompt: A shaman is a woman of Slavic appearance in shamanic clothing of shamans. It stands among the mountains, a golden stream pours down on it from the sky like a matrix of geometric shapes, digital fractals. A snow leopard walks along the mountains in the distance, a lake of sparkling surface is visible. The style is mythical realism, clear, beautiful, inimitable
Prompt: A pack of white wolves are running across the snowy tundra, there is a huge white moon in the sky, magical realism, luminescent glow, 3D quality, no inscription
Prompt: A white shaman on a white deer in a snowy tundra, the moon like a shaman's tambourine hanging in the sky, magical realism, 3de, luminescent glow, picture without inscription
Prompt: Under the blue sky there is a golden city
With transparent gates and a clear star,
And in that city there is a garden, all herbs and flowers,
Animals of unprecedented beauty walk there:
One, like a yellow fire-maned lion,
Another ox full of eyes,
With them is the golden eagle of heaven,
Whose unforgettable gaze is so bright.
And one star is burning in the blue sky.
She is yours, oh my angel, she is always yours.
He who loves is loved, he who is bright is holy,
Let the star lead you on the way to a wonderful garden.
A fire-maned lion will meet you there,
And a blue ox full of eyes,
With them is the golden eagle of heaven,
Whose unforgettable gaze is so bright.
Prompt: Maybe there, in a parallel universe
City N, where the lights are lit at night
Where is the abode of the Gods and the land of Oikumene
Mysteries and children's dreams are born there...
From the window of a half-timbered ancient bakery
Vanilla wind flies on the roofs
And at the house opposite the shimmer of a guitar
An unearthly melody sounds tenderly...
Elvigor - wise and kind lamplighter
Has been lighting the night lights for hundreds of years
Every resident in that city truly knows
That he loves and is loved immensely by someone...
You and I would get to the edge of the Oikumene,
Yes, don’t know about wars and don’t cry bitterly
Only city that N in a parallel Universe
And only children fly there in their dreams...
Prompt: conscious introspection of a person through cosmic conceptual photography, quantum level, social network analysis, mystical ancient symbolism, mixture of codes Symbols and language of light, wireframe golden grid, occultism, Android Jones, Alex Gray, Mati Klarwein
Prompt: A huge lake among the mountains. Everything is in a lilac fog. In the background, on the horizon, a huge white figure of a man with deer antlers is visible. Next to him is a snow leopard. Шаманские миры. The picture is super realistic, 16k quality. Realism style. Very beautiful.
Prompt: A huge lake among the mountains. Everything is in a lilac fog. In the background, on the horizon, a huge white figure of an old sorcerer with deer antlers is visible. The picture is super realistic, 16k quality. Realism style. Very beautiful.
Prompt: A shaman of Slavic appearance in beautiful shamanic clothes, holding the Moon in her hands like a tambourine, surrounded by beautiful nature - mountains, lakes, forests. An owl is sitting on a tree, a snow leopard is lying at the shaman's feet. Correct anatomical shapes. The picture is of high 3 de quality, bright super realistic in beautiful shamanic clothes, holding the Moon in her hands like a tambourine, surrounded by beautiful nature - mountains, lakes, forests. An owl is sitting on a tree, a snow leopard is lying at the shaman's feet. Correct anatomical shapes. The picture is of high 3 de quality, bright super realistic
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.
