A Concise Translation of the Voynich Manuscript

By

Stephen Darjeeling
March 21, 2005

Note: The following information has been derived from a translation of the Voynich Manuscript which was completed in the winter of 2004-2005 by myself, aided only by the companionship and advice of my cat, Bear. The translation was accomplished by entering into a transcendental state unaided by any type of hallucinogenic or psychotropic drug. The previous histories of the Voynich Manuscript, which is actually entitled Humania Terriorialis, will not be referenced here as they are readily available for study and comparison. SD

Preface to the Translation

In 1510 AD a German peasant ditch digger, Hektor von Graue (Hector the Gray), was returning to his cottage near Hanover. He had his bindlestiff with his lunch satchel tied to it. It was a fairly warm evening and an approaching thunderstorm was imminent. Hektor walked to within a couple of kilometers of his house when, all of a sudden, he found himself in a violent wind and hailstorm. Grabbing his leather vest close to him he put his head into the storm and hurried for shelter. Realizing that he would have to wait out the storm, Hektor headed for a small depression in the low hills near his home, a shelter he had used before consisting of an outcropping of rock near a creek. By that time, lightning was striking all around him and he was terrified. He was a man of consciousness and spirituality, with a firm belief in God, yet he still retained some of the old beliefs associated with the natural occurrence of things. Those old beliefs included forest spirits, sorcerers and witches, and the embodiment of spirit to all things in the world, including lightning and storms in general. Hektor was proud of his meager heritage. No son of a king, no relative of nobles, he would often proclaim that his surname was Graue and not Grau, a Prussian surname that he disdained. “We are not Prussians!” he would openly and loudly tell any clerk of the Church at Kierksdorf, where his family was registered, who made the mistake of misspelling his name. His opposition to authority often caused him to be ridiculed by others in the town and even his own family, making him an outcast of sorts. Hektor didn’t mind. He had his solitude and his family that he provided for and that was sufficient for him. He had friends, but not many, that would laugh with him and his occasional troubles with the town constable who knew his penchant for making wine. Hektor von Graue made good wine, very good wine and people in the town sought him out when they knew he had some available. The only problem was that Hektor, being a bit eccentric in his forty years of age, neglected to get the permission of the Baron or of the Constable to make wine and so was often at odds with both. Whenever he was confronted by the Constable as to the nature of his wine business, Hektor would quote the saying on the gate of the city, “Ergo Hanoverensis Sum,” (I am a Hanoverian), turn on his heel and head off much to the consternation of the town constable who, like the Baron, enjoyed Hektor’s wine.
And so it was on that day of the storm that Hektor found himself hurrying for cover to escape the hail and the lightning that was now falling and striking all around him. “Saint Ann, Saint Ann, save me!” he called out as he ran for the shelter of the rock overhang, jumping through the swollen stream and diving for cover as the storm strengthened. As his leather covered foot landed on a flat rock in the stream, a bolt of lightning hit behind him and propelled him into the cave. He landed and rolled further in just as a big blackjack oak tree fell across the entrance. He huddled in the cave, watching the strange storm of hail and lightning that continued in full force. The hail was backlit by the lightning making it look like fire was raining down on the Earth. Hektor thought it was the end of the world. He crossed himself and prayed. The roar of the storm was deafening as the high wind blew down the oak and linden trees which were set on fire by the lightning. The wild and ripping hail exploded on the burning trees throwing sparks and flames. “Doomsday,” Hektor thought, crossing himself several times. He heard a loud hum and the hair on his arms stood straight up. A bluish light filled the cave. It became brighter and brighter until Hektor could stand it no longer and lost consciousness as a thunderous wave of energy enveloped him.
When he woke up, Hektor knew immediately that he was not alone. He had sensed the presence of someone watching him as he lay there in the cave. The storm was over and the cave smelled sweet with burning oak which also warmed him. But there was another smell, too. A pungent spicy odor pervaded the inside of the cave and there was a glow of residual blue light on everything. Hektor sat up. “Wer ist hier?” There was no answer. Hektor propped himself on his elbow and looked around. “Ist jemand hier?” Still no answer. Hektor knew there was someone there with him. He looked around quickly. Behind him he saw a shadow and the hair on his neck and arms raised again, out of fear this time. He got up, bumping his head on the low ceiling of limestone. Turning around quickly he saw the fleeting shadow again but not the person making it. “Wo sind Sie. Zeigen Sie sich!” Hektor spun around trying to catch the person making the shadow. He thought it was odd that he didn’t hear them making sound on the rubble floor of the cave. Finally, Hektor decided that the best method was to stop trying and sit down. “Setzen Sie sich mit mir dann hin.” He held out his hand, palm up, offering whoever it was a place to sit. The soft glow of the blue light increased next to him and he suddenly perceived that there was a person next to him on the cave floor. It amazed Hektor von Graue that he was not afraid. He looked at the young lady who looked back at him. “Wer sind Sie? Sind Sie ein Engel?”
“Nein ist, Herr Graue, ich kein engel.”
“Von wo sind Sie und vas ist ihr Name?”
“Ich bin nicht von hier und mein Name ist Stern-Brinda”
Hektor von Graue’s life was changed at that instant. He was given a leather bound manuscript by Star-Brinda, a visitor from a world parallel to his. In the conversation that followed he was told to keep the manuscript until such time as he heard from her again. He watched as the blue light slowly faded and with it the lady who had visited with him on that stormy evening. Hektor vowed not to tell anyone of his experience and patiently waited to hear from Star-Brinda.

Several years passed and Hektor maintained his silence and kept the leather manuscript well hidden. He had looked at it several times but its contents of pictures of stars, odd drawings, and undecipherable language evaded his intellect and he finally gave up trying to make any sense out of it. Hektor von Graue died in his bed one winter night in 1517 having never heard from Star-Brinda again. The leather case along with the rest of Hektor’s meager possessions, were sold at auction to satisfy the family’s debts. The manuscript became lost until it resurfaced in the court of the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II of Bohemia.