This work is marked with CC0 1.0 Universal. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/























tenpo pini wawa lon suno poka ala ; tenpo la jan mute li sona ala e ni:suno lili li lukin e pali mi mute a! 
tenpo nasa la jan mute li utala kepeken e palisa kalama lon tenpo mute!
tenpo mun pimeja lon ma nasa la jan lawa pi mi mute li tawa
tenpo ni la sinpin ona li kasi walo a!
ona li tawa anpa seli nasin a!
ona li lukin e jan nasin a!
sijelo jan li ike mute a!
len ona li pimeja li jaki a!
jan lawa a!
jan wawa a!
ona li lupa e lupa jan, li sewi e jan nasin li toki alasa e pilin jan

"  a! mi tawa nasa
   mi sona ala e ma ni!
   mi jo tomo ala!
   ma suli ni la mi jo taso e poki telo! "

toki kama li kama
ona li jo toki sona

"
    kon sewi li len lawa sina
    waso mute li toki tawa sina
    len walo lete li awen sina pona
    kasi mute anpa li pilin pona anpa sina
    kasi sewi li toki musi tawa sina
    nasin telo li weka e ike
    
"
   
jan lawa li tawa anpa e jan nasin li toki musi e musi jo nimi ala 

  
   



tawalinjamute

































Language

"What worlds delight, or joy of living speach can hart, so plung'd in sea of sorrowes deep and heaped with so huge misfortunes reach?" you ask, well... isn`t it well known arownd tees-parts or is it not? that wen jupiter or mercury being in their rightful attendence on a clear night in the merrye month of June on the twenty-third and often on a blue moon in a month of saturdays, that tickerful sounds of Munich come a crowing from over the castle walls to the surrounding heirs and graces and beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator; as the poet said "O let us love our occupations, Bless the squire and his relations, Eschew the eating of Dalmatians, And always know our proper stations." It's then that the archaey pretentions- the Ivory-towered preferences, much favoured by offishal channels as well as the certain others not to say more and so on and etc...  certain individuals that will remain nameless are then seeing it as an improvement, but only as you'll see a smallish one, it is beccoming increasingly fosilized and futhermore removed from the noble basic-english 42 as she is very often spoke! Such folly, I said to myself! It has oft not been used in very many cases at all where it is much plain to the untrained absorber of information to say an awful lot of things at all despite of the fact of it unessarily taking up an awfhoe lot of precious never to be regained breath "Soun is noght but air ybroken, and every speche that is spoken,loud or privee, foul or fair, in his substaunce is but air.", indeed while two or more organisms attempt to co-ordinate their actions with each-other such difficulties are bound to be an unfortunate inevitability and it encourages the speakold of their own mighty superioty even at the most terribold expense of their humanitarian imagination, so one consequently finds oneself in a terrible predicament regarding language and communication. The issues engendered whilst communicating are manifold not confined to those tark-ant-timshal-tungeons, i-i-i-I neither having no graterfence to me name (prrr!) and neither planning to commit any, hens forget; one must either bend down to lick clean and polish the boots whose sandals you are unworthy of the name to untie- of the stark past masters of the days of the elm-eld-old-ald-ill monarch, God rest her sow for "le mystere de l'amour est plus grand que le mystere de la mort." neither that or it is doable to speak-think double-plus-unless simplefully, I am ungood at simple oldspeaking, ante-oldspeaks by ante-unpersons is unsimple samewise, some oldspeaks is maybe not-same, but most unsimple or double-plus-old. I bellyfeeled need for simple & unsame-speak to gain entry by escraping, up-using the pan-chein reg gie`em of morternity agin it`s self as it has bean ton monet a thighme before the present, paris-doxically one might suppose or so one wouldn`t it anyway but ah well sewer and-enough, in odour to get me pour besthrottled presentimints postited more teemt ant... so deales teak oer`t, they have to be reamed over the court wall of the joisance of well noam high re-numb, ah putputputput isn`t severy hid-a-teelt none of it the less is more or more of it the less? And what do I find O my Brothers? I find such bezoomny lewdies have skvated up the use of the written slovo from our very paws, how my brothers? by getting their gratchny mewling into our poor razodoks swifter than we can sick it up. So nachinat the bratchny boorjoyce yarlbes as used by journalitas and gazettas and their brattywats is cal O my droogies, I am far from being on my odiknocks in skrying that!

This of course renders the English language somewhat unusable to say the least.


Chapter 1

T he clock said quarter-past-five he thought, but began to doubt it, maybe it said quarter-past-four.
As the clock faced him, horrible things seemed to dance around it.

Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

There was a susurration in the curtains and a couple of crows or ravens flew in, and he shrank as they lighted on his shoulders.



The one on the right nibbled his ear gently.
The one on the left croaked in his other ear:
"We've come to take you... but don't worry."
The one on the right turned their head a moment then croaked...
"Don't worry... but we've come to take you."



Chapter 2














The tree thronged with all the birds of the meadow. The pheasants and the peacock sat on the table  wedged in a fork in the branches. He watched all this from a great height.
In flew the magpie holding a school book, he recognised the stains on it even from a distance, it was his! 
The magpie breezily leafed through it to find a certain page to show to the peacock who muttered disapprovingly while more birds flocked around it.
He knew what that page said because he had written it, it said:


"My weekend

On Saturday I went to the park with my frend Simon Hornbeam.
I climed a tree and there was a squireal and a robin and some birds playing Scrable.
They were very nice too me and I asked me to play it with them.
But then they got anoyed and said that I coud'nt spell, so they atacked me and I fell of off the tree and hert my kney."


"Who has been fraternising with an informer?" demanded a particularly fat wood pigeon.
"How were we supposed to know he was an informer!" retorted a robin angrily.
"Despite being distinctly under-educated, he seemed quite pleasant." remarked a female blackbird.
"Did he, by Fagus!? nevertheless he shall be hunted down and destroyed!"
The birds rose up in a wild frenzy singing an execution song in the most terrifying harmony imaginable.


- To the tune of The Sweet Primroses

Farewell to all, my days are numbered, I must go down to gehinnom's shore,
It's there that I'll dine on dust and ashes, And there I'll fear the fatal ivy tree no more.

 Nature's friends;  I have brought you suff'ring, what your suff'ring is there's none can tell, And when you found I had the fairies slighted, Your lust for vengeance there's none could excell.

The engraving of Cain is for ever on thee, for the deeds  you've sought and done.
My foes are gath'ring all for the slaughter, A father's weeping, all for his son.

  Flow on, flow on, you lovely river, sweeter than honey are your waters fair.
 Sweeter than honey, the taste of death is; It is a light load that, yet that I am loath to bear.


Chapter 3


"Don't agitate, they won't catch a glimpse of you" said the corvid on the left.
"They can't make you out, don't be shaken" said the corvid on the right.

The next grievance to be aired rose from among them like the dawn, their sap rising further.
To settle it the squireal went and returned with a roll of thin bark.
It was unfurled on the table, the pheasants making way; then a wren hopped swift-ly on the table and glid up and down the knobbly runes written on the bark until the correct section was unearthed and post-looking around carefully at the top of her little voice embarked on reading it aloud.

"It was quarter to six, I was flying at about sixteen thousand feet above the Pfälzerwald at a speed of roughly four hundred knots. The bitter winds howled lewdly around the wings of the arrowplane."



"What arrowplane?" asked a sparrow.
Outage was the response from the birds, the wren flew off in a dudgeon. 
A pheasant was gently coaksed into supplanting her, she nodded respectfully, stiffly, with pretend calmness she red:

"The clouds swirled around the windows yet I saw planely, the disagreeable head of Silvius Fogerty, his hard callous face set in a sharp-toothed scowl. About his person was concealed a fortune of perhaps a quarter of a million in sawbucks and gold leaf, also a large number of classified and irreplaceable papers. His hazel eyes were woodenly fixed upon his portable typewriter. He was composing a letter to his collog and friend Decimus Coppernicus The Elder..."

"Have we this letter?"  ashed a voice.

"We do, yew know"  axclaimed another.

"Where did it spring from?"
"It fell by axident in to a public litter bin, subsequently a freak gust of wind took it up into the mountains whereupon it was discovered by Engleriana the last of the Druidesses whilst she was gathering mistletoe.
When the Engleriana affair was cleared on behalf of Kanton Bern the surgeons involved took possesion of her arc-hives which were sold individually in a privet auction held at Christie's.
The aforementioned letter was among the papers bought by Petrakia Liobae PLC which we happened to be in the process of buying up with an eye toward branching out.
Fortuitously one of the office cleaners we planted there brought this to our attention and it was added to our catalog."

The letter was brung and the Peacock absent mindedly red it outload in a creaking murmurr.














"Deer John...




I feel impelled to write and apologise for leaf-ing like this. I simply do not know how to explain or what to tell you. I am suffering a terrible fungal infection and I expect that I shall probably die. Any effort to write in this condition will be fruitless and only come off as nuts. Instead I will tell you about the dream I just had on the 'plane because it's the nearest I can reach to telling you my feelings. I hope one day you can grow to forgive me without feeling like a sucker.

It was a spring day, I smelt blossom and felt fresh air on my face. It seemed entirely reel, more real than my miserable surroundings at present, I can still see the vines climbing the pillars of the porch I was standing under, blowing in the breeze and glowing in the dappled sunlight. In front of me was a green panelled door in a maroon georgian door-frame, I turned around and saw a path lined with tall hedges, and the end of it was a white, plain wooden gate, beyond it I could see traffic going past, unmistakably London traffic.
I felt so strangely relaxed there, I lay down on the steps leading up to the door and just watched. 
I stayed there for a long while, it was pleasant.
Then a 403 bus rumbled by in a way that somehow gave me a feeling of nameless, vertiginous, falling dread and the air began to cool. Something, I don't know what planted a seed of panic inside my mind and made me reach for my holster. 
A grim, sticklike, shadowed figure, who I took to be the Angel of Death himself opened the gate and imped down the path at speed that should nat have been possible, I pulled out my gun and prepared to fire. The shadow passed from his face and I saw him in his full horrible glory: He had thinning brown hair underneath his bowler, that was pushed backward on his head. His green tinged face with it's whispy white moustache was miserable, beneath his empty grey eyes were thick black rings, in his long bony black-gloved fingers was a brown briefcase overflowing with orange curling sheets of paper. Stupidly because I was holding it in my hand; I told him I had a gun, but he did not pause. Something wrapped around my heart and I felt an irresistible compulsion to shoot but I could not and good God did he stink like mud and decay. 
'Please don`t fire', he asked in a prickly drone that nevertheless suggested he would not take it to heart if I did. I asked him, what in Artemises name did he want? He told me not to try and worm out of our agreement, I didn't know anything about an agreement but I foud myself saying quite determinedly that nothing was agreed until all the details were made clear, or atleast that`s what his colleague had told me. He smiled vaugely, stared like a owl then spoke; he did not speak at all clearly, he had a very peculiar accent, whilst he was speaking a lorry rushed past making a tremendous noise, shortly followed by an ambulance with it's sirens on, all the while a 'plane was flying low overhead and so were a flock of geese, seemingly someone nearby was mowing their lawn. 'Do you understand?' he asked when he had finished, following the strange dream logic I said that I did.
'Very well, our business in England is complete, but sooner you than me!' said the swine as he left, handing me an envelope, inside the envelope were 'plane tickets and instructions to await a call at a 'phone booth near Hounslow Cemetery at 20:00.
I did as I was instructed and found the 'phone box at eight and the phone rang but at the same time somebody shoved some papers underneath the door and scuttled away, well the blower went dead when I answered it so I excavated the paper from the muck on the floor, it went as far as I can recrawl something lark  thiss:

My Dreer Sir, I must apolog-ise for my gall in writing, I hope that I do not come across as being waspish but you must first of all understand this- that from the topmost brightly gilded joy-fall dawn, when attended to by my progenitors who had made a bee line for it, I first put down roots in the long exhalted terra firma of these most unsurpassedlea and ryemarkably green and pleas-ant of isles (being at the time a mere sapling in a most formative phase of my existence, having previously trodden only the dust of a multitude of African dominions - British colonies and otherwise) I have always stood firmly in the service of this other Eden, freequently contorting myself grossly and forcefully - back and forth at the slightest of breezes, into most disagreeable and painful of angles in order to confound those who wood knock the interests of this fair land. Though sometimes very green, without fear nor favour it may fairly be said that I have grafted hard with Herculean, not to say Sisyphean efforts and have achieved great branching success unrivalled among the lesser insects of that wicked and adulterous generation, in which Providence with its boundless prudence which I would not ever presume to question, has looked upon as being equal to bearing the challenge of accommodating amongst it myself as an incongruence most striking and most struck. But however from that moment whence I first arrived to nest in this island fortress and inspike of the fruits of my labours, I was cruelly and mercilessly subjected to a river, a torrent, a raging Niagra of undeserved slander, abuse and unfair discrimination raining down on me, all propagated by the illegitimate seed of Albion. Furthermoor, in the course of my varied and successful endeavours, I have felt the thorns of, and caught with my own eyes, my own ears, and my own senses a glimpse of the poisoned, hollow heart that beats beneath that most full armoured bosom of fair Britannia. I watched rending my clothes in unfathomable des-pear as from unassuming acorns emerged vines of malice that became webs of corruption engulfing the mighty kingdoms of Brutus, O'Niel, and Magnus Maximus. I called and pined internally and eternally in vain as I witnessed root and branch abuses of power, tiresome in their ill-gotten normality, banality and frequency which would drive me nearly cuckoo. As a direct consequence of my whispering protest, read by the native dryads from the lines on my forhead, I was forced into the heinous transgression of formulating false testimony which caused me to be felled from my lofty position and lose my worldly wealth, security and reputation, what was infinitely worse, I was stripped to the cuticle and humiliated before the merciless eyes of the vulgaris. Only some seasons later was I completely exonerated of the charges of this ill-conceived hatchet job, but too late. Therefore antibaucianally I write this letter to publicly log that I must make my final bough and hereby and immediately wave farewell to this fair but perfidious country and all of it's tendrils and shall nevermore use it's hybrid invasive Barbarian patois, which I despise to my very core. For now and forever, all the questions this singularly unimaginative planet should have for me (though I somehow don't beleaf that they should prove innumerable), will be answered primarily in a new language dictated from the lower heavens, taken from a time in the future by a great Northumbrian woodland hermit whose greatness was prematurely extinguished before he was able to alter the compromised state of terrestrial existence.
tenpo pini la mi pali lon tomo nasa, lon tomo mani, lon kulupu lawa utala nampa tu tu tu, lon tomo nampa luka luka. tan ni la sina lukin e ni; mi toki nasa ala!
jan mute li pilin lon nasin sina li tawa anpa
tenpo pini la jan mute li pilin e ni; global material standards of living li tawa sewi
tenpo sin 2008 la mani kasi li lili
Living standards li tawa anpa lon ma suno anpa 
tenpo sin Coronavirus pandemic la living standards li tawa anpa lon ma mani lili
tenpo ni la climate change li ike tawa jan mani lili
ma ale li kama ike lili li kama ike lili
jan mute li pali mute tawa kama e pona
suno pona la ona li kama e pona 
suno pona lili la ona li kama e pona lili 
tenpo mute la ona li kama e pona ala
tenpo mute la ona li kama e ike
tenpo lili la ona li pana e ike mute
seme la ona li tawa ike?
olin pi mi mute en kon pi mi mute en sona kon pi mi mute en sona soweli pi mi mute li pona; jan mute li pilin e ni ala
tenpo mute la pilin moku ale li pona taso pilin moku suli li ike suli
pilin moku tawa lawa suli li pilin moku mute 
tan ni pilin lili li pona tawa jan mute
tenpo mute la sona ma li pakala tawa jan ante taso sona ale li linja sona ale
jan Kenneth Williams li toki e ni:
"Everyone's becoming BETTER and BETTER at LESS and LESS. Eventually someone's going to be SUPERB, at nothing."
ale li tawa ale 
tan ni la Butterfly Effect li lon
jan Edward Lorenz li kama e sona ni: that the tiny alteration to the pattern of air currents caused by the flapping of a butterfly's wings will in time magnify to such an extent as to change the course of a tornado a few weeks later.
tawa sina ale li tawa pilin kon ale li tawa pilin ale ti tawa tawa ale 
jan mute li pilin lili tawa sona ni
 o mi mute li lukin ale li wan li tao li logos li anima mundi li shekhinah li the will of God
jan Gracie Fields toki musi e ni; toki musi li sona pona:

 The Thing-ummyy-bob

   I can't pretend to be a great celebrity But still, I'm quite important in me way, 
   The job I have to do may not sound much to you But all the same, I'm very proud to say...

   I'm the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the ring that drives the rod that turns the knob that works the thing-ummy-bob 
   I'm the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that takes the shank that moves the crank that works the thing-ummy-bob.
   It's a ticklish sort of job making a thing for a thing-ummy-bob Especially when you don't know what it's for!
   But it's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the ring that makes the thing-ummy-bob that makes the engines roar!
   And it's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that makes the thing-ummy-bob that's going to win the war!

   I'm not what you would call a heroine, at all I don't suppose you'd even know me name. 
   But though I'll never boast, of my important post I'll strike a blow for freedom just the same.
  I'm the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the ring that drives the rod that turns the knob that works the thing-ummy-bob 
   I'm the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that takes the shank that moves the crank that works the thing-ummy-bob.
   It's a ticklish sort of job making a thing for a thing-ummy-bob Especially when you don't know what it's for!
   But it's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the ring that makes the thing-ummy-bob that makes the engines roar!
   And it's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that makes the thing-ummy-bob that's going to win the war!









Chapter 4




The raven on his left shoulder took from underneath his right wing a large amber pendant.
"You are wondering how all this came to be. I want you to take this as a warning; there may be a second but there will not be a third- That such is the power of the holy spheres when scorned.

Look in to the jewel and see the man in his foolishness."

In the amber was a lonely figure drifting on a hillside...
















lipunanpalupa:


mi kama ma [lon tan] suli
suno ni la mi kama ma [sike sike]
tenpo ni la suno li tawa anpa
mi awen anpa lon ma nena 
mi lukin e suno loje

kon sewi li toki suwi
kon ma sewi li musi 
jan ma tomo li toki ike 
telo pi(ma tomo) li tawa jaki
ken la toki mi kalama sama nena suli
ken la pilin insa mi li awen wawa samanena suli

jan li tawa ma moli anpa o;
o sina awen lili, li lukin sewi a!
lape ala, lape ala, lape ala!
o alasa e nasin sina; insa la ma poki pi moli
jan mute li lape anpa ko lete!
a suno lili o, o suno sewi li lukin tawa e mi ale!
tenpo kama la mi mute li moku e pan pona a!


ma nasin o, a ma nasin o
o toki musi tawa mi a;
o toki musi e ma kasi a;
o toki musi e ko laso lon telo jaki ;
o toki musi e/ jan lili li moku  ala


ma nasin o, a ma nasin o
o toki musi e jan ike mute
ona li moku e sona sewi ale!
kulupu ike li moku e loje pi (jan lili taso)
o pana mi e palisa utala mi

jan nasa o, jan nasa o
utala sina li pana e ala
sina jan pi (toki pona) ala
suno ni la sina moli

Who are you to philosophise? 
What have you learnt that we have not told you? 
The Musica Universalis will not B taken for granted!


Qu’est-c' qui passe ici, si tard ?
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Qu’est-c' qui passe ici, si tard ?
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

C’est le chevalier du guet,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
C’est le chevalier du guet,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Que demand' le chevalier ?
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Que demand' le chevalier ?
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Une fille à marier,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Un continent à transformer,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


y a pas d'fille à marier,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
y a pas d'fille à marier,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


On m'a dit qu'vous en aviez,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
On m'a dit qu'vous en aviez,
Gai, gai, dessus un quai.


Ceux qui l'ont dit s'sont trompés,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Ceux qui l'ont dit s'sont trompés,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Je veux que vous m'en donniez un,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Je veux que vous m'en donniez un,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Sur les onze heur's, repassez,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Sur les onze heur's repassez,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Les onze heur's ont bien sonné,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Les onze heur's ont bien sonné,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


Qu'est-c' que vous lui donneriez ?
Compagnons de la Marjolaine,
Qu'est-c' que vous lui donneriez ?
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


De l'or, des bijoux assez,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
De l'or, des bijoux assez,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


Ell' n'est pas intéressée,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Ell' n'est pas intéressée,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Tout mon cœur lui donnerai,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine,
Oui mon cœur lui donnerai,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.

Dans ce cas, la choisissez,
Compagnons de la Marjolaine.
Dans ce cas, la choisissez,
Gai, gai, dessus le quai.


jan ale li kalama utala            
soweli ale li mu utala 
kasi ale li pilin utala 
ma ale li toki kalama utala 
ma nena ale en ma poki ale li utala e tu
tenpo ale la ale li wile e lawa suli







o kute e ilo kalama utala,
seme la ona li kalama 
jan ale o li utala e seme 
jan ale li utala lon ona lawa 
ale li insa lawa ale 
lawa ale li insa lawa wan 
lawa wan li olin ala e lawa wan 
jan ale li utala e jan sama


 
a jan utala li alasa ala e olin 
mi wile alasa e olin
mi toki musi e olin 
mi toki musi e olin wan sewi 
olin ni la kasi ala, li alasa ala, li kon sewi ala, li jan taso en olin taso

 
jan li olin ala la jan li jan ala; 
ona la olin li olin ala 
olin li alasa la olin li utala ala  
olin utala li utala ala 
utala li olin la utala li olin utala olin li olin suli
 
mi sona e ni, tenpo kama li tenpo ni, tenpo tawa li tenpo kama 
o toki musi e kalama pakala pi olin o 
o utala musi li pakala e mun o 
o mun musi o o li li li li musi 
o musi musi musi utala utala li pakala 
o o olin musi toki musi toki musi
olin o li li li mun 

 
mi li o wawa mi li li li li o weka mun olin li ala la la lon musi a lon wawa weka 
lon kama o kasi o nimi e pini ala la la la la 
aoaa a mi mi mu pipi pi pipi pi weka o ala kala o kala kala wawa kon kala o o wawa wawa waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso waso walo walo waso walo waso walo walo 
O! o o kule
ken o noka pini e ni e ni 
a 
Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michaël Archangele, defende nos in praelio et colluctatione, quae nobis adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae, in caelestibus. Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus creavit inexterminabiles, et ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Praeliare hodie cum beatorum Angelorum exercitu praelia Domini, sicut pugnasti contra ducem superbiae luciferum, et angelos ejus apostaticos: et non valuerunt, neque locus inventus est eorum amplius in coelo. Sed projectus est draco ille magnus, serpens antiquus, qui vocatur diabolus et satanas, qui seducit universum orbem; et projectus est in terram, et angeli ejus cum illo missi sunt. 
En antiquus inimicus et homicida vehementer erectus est. Transfiguratus in angelum lucis, cum tota malignorum spirituum caterva late circuit et invadit terram, ut in ea deleat nomen Dei et Christi ejus, animasque ad aeternae gloriae coronam destinatas furetur, mactet ac perdat in sempiternum interitum. Virus nequitiae suae, tamquam flumen immundissimum, draco maleficus transfundit in homines depravatos mente et corruptos corde; spiritum mendacii, impietatis et blasphemiae; halitumque mortiferum luxuriae, vitiorum omnium et iniquitatum. 
Ecclesiam, Agni immaculati sponsam, faverrrimi hostes repleverunt amaritudinibus, inebriarunt absinthio; ad omnia desiderabilia ejus impias miserunt manus. Ubi sedes beatissimi Petri et Cathedra veritatis ad lucem gentium constituta est, ibi thronum posuerunt abominationis et impietatis suae; ut percusso Pastore, et gregem disperdere valeant. 
Adesto itaque, Dux invictissime, populo Dei contra irrumpentes spirituales nequitias, et fac victoriam. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; te gloriatur defensore adversus terrestrium et infernorum nefarias potestates; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas. 
Deprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et satanas, ac ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. 
 
a toki ma [wan] li lukin pona li toki suno 
a toki tenpo ni li toki nasa li lawa monsi 
o ijo jan sewi li tawa e ike mi li tawa, olin jaki mi li awen mi weka e kon ike
o tomo kulupu li kepeken e kon mi 
o mama meli pi( jan pali ale )li tawa mi 
a kama, a kalama, a mi tawa 
a mun musi li musi pona 
o kalama lukin pona li kama anpa

 
o lukin tawa e jan kama, jan insa e kon walo : ona li jan pi (lawa sewi mute) li jan [NELISON] wan suli 
o lukin, o toki ala


 

o toki tawa mi 
ko wawa uta pi pipi a o mi jan pona anu ala ?
… a sina toki ala en sina ante toki ala
tenpo la sina toki , sina toki ike wawa … o taso toki tawa mi 
a o seli suli li moku e sina a
a tenpo pi sina toki la sina toki sama lon anu sama lon ala ?
toki sama lon ala li pali e seme ? 
a mi lukin la sina jan pi toki pu ala 

o mi lape 
a mi ken lape ala ken la mi tawa 
mi toki sona e pona , pona li moli ike lon lukin pi lape mi 
jan pi lukin tawa li ma kama o sina lukin ike tawa jan li tomo e ma sina 
mi jan pi lukin kama anu seme ?
mi jan li lukin kama ala , mi jan li pilin tenpo ni 

 
jan pi (toki li pali sama ala pi suli )o, jan pi (uta tu suwi) o, tenpo seme la mi pana tawa e sina, tenpo ala a! 
o mi toki ala 
kon walo lete pi (tawa ala) o, tenpo ni la pilin kon la mi pilin alasa
o tawaewawaejan, eteloejan, telo pi (kon li piotelolateloteloewawaejanpioteloawawaejane), 
telo mute lili pi (tawa) o kama anpa, poka ma linja la suno li seli ala
a ni li ma moli, ni li ma lape, a sewi suli, wawa li kalama ala, mi tawa, mi tawa, mi tawa, mi tawa, mi tawa, mi tawa tawa ma supa, ma seli e mun mun mun o mi kute jan esun li toki kalama, mi kute toki musi pi meli, mi olin e ma alasa, mi olin ala e ma lape
…tenpo ni la mi tawa nasa lon ma kasi pimeja, o kasi sewi li toki anpa e mi …
JAN SEME LI KAMA E PARLOUR MI O. O AWEN. O AWEN. O MOKU E TELO SUWI MI
kasi sewi o mi awen ala, mi tawa weka, mi lukin tawa e seli pi (ma tomo mute) 
o toki musi ala
 
Wohin gehst du?
a jan pi (ma nena) li toki pi (ma nena) , poka ma linja , bis heute, De poka ma linja li pali ala lon tenpo ala a , o kalama j’arayi, o ma musi in what moonlit snow, lèvâa jan anu ala , lasse, down drizzling tawa anpa , suli battalions into ma nena, a o rain wie jorken e ma pali toki la fiern moonlit Christmas
What Christmas?
Chritmas coming, lèvâ, lèvâ!
 
jan pi (sona nasa) o, o tawa, o tawa, o tawa, o lukin e LA CAGE DE LIONS a! o lukin, o lukin tawa e soweli suli jan [KITI] o, jan [PET] o, jan [TOM] o
TOTHENANDA mi en jan [TOLI] li noka ala, kama suno ni la jan [TOMA] li olin uta e jan [TOLI], ona li uta e jan [TOMA], suno ni la jan [TOLI] li kepeken e ona
jan [TOMA] en jan [TOLI] en jan [MOL] li tawa a… JE REVIENS, PLOC! JE’M‘ECHAPPE, o tawa mi, KéKéKé, J’AI pu FUIR!
jan sona o SAUVE TOI, jan pipi li noka o, 
telo suli o KéKéKé tawa sewi – anpa sewi, anpa sewi anpa
QUE? QUE QUE QUE DIS tu?
KéKéKéKé... ijo musi lon ni, ijo li musi 
kama e seme li tawa e poka e seme – a pipi li kama kékékékéké… 
mi sona ala! LA CAGE! LA CAGE. PRISON ME PREND. JE CONNAIS PAS. JE CONNAIS PAS RIEN
KÉKÉKÉké. FRAPPE! FRAPPER T’WAS kepeken pimeja, kepeken pimeja, kepeken pimeja – jan [TIK] en jan [MOL] en jan [TOL], a tenpo ni la kepeken ilo linja, kepeken ilo linja, o lukin e ni, jan [JAK] li pana e pilin kulupu, jan [Tol] – meli pi jan li kepeken e ilo linja 








a kon tawa li tawa lon ma moli li kama e supa ma [pi wile tomo] , a kon ni li tawa e supa ma [ala pipi] 
kon mun o li tawa musi, kon mun o li poka e mi, kon mun li moku suwi
ona li kama e poki tomo pi (ma [jo wawa suwi mi]) 
a seme li toki kalama lon nena sewi ? toki kalama ni li toki sama lon ma nena kiwen ale 
ona li kama e poki noka pi (jan ESUN), poki noka li poki kalama ni ala, kalama li telo tawa 
kalama sama li kama insa e kasi ale en kiwen, kalama suli ni li alasa e mi, kalama li wile telo moli e mi 
kalama sin ala o mi jan ilo ala!
ken la mi jan pali 
ken la mi jan li pana 
ken la mi lili
ken la sina suli 
ona li pali e mi, ona li pali e jan ilo ala 


 
o kama kalama anpa e ma loje pimeja 
o toki e pilin ike mute suli mute sina 
o anpa e ma pimeja anpa
o tenpo la tawa sewi e ma sewi sewi 
o tenpo la tawa anpa 
o tenpo la tawa sewi 
o tawa musi lon seli moku 
o tenpo kama la seli ken li moku e sina ala 
o pana mi e poki suli pi (telo lete), ; tenpo lili la sona nasa li musi a, moli li ike suli ala, taso la moli li pona ala






 


tenpo ni mi sona tawa ala
a mi tawa , mi tawa lon kepeken linja pi (ma tomo) , a mi tawa anpa 
ma tomo o sina lape , sina lukin e mi ala 
mi kama e kulupu mi lon ma telo 
a pilin lape , mi pilin lape , tenpo suli la mi pilin lape , a pona , pona a , mi lape lon ni 
mi kama e ma kasi pali , kama ma supa , kama [BASEL], tawa [SCHWEIR], tawa [STASBOURG], [LORELEY], [KOBLENZ], [BONN], [COLOGNE], [DÜSSELDORF], [ODISBURG], [WEMERSWEERD], [DEESBURAU], [OLD DURGEN], [JUTPHEN], [BERWEIDE], [OLST], [WISEHE], [ZWOLLE], [KAMEEN], [GAAPHORST], [OVERSSEL], [SCHNOKKERHAVEN], [KETELHAVEN], [EN KUIZEN], [WESTTESHELLING], [OST VLIELAND], [HUMBER], [DEUTSCHE BUCHT], [FISKBANK], [COPENHAGEN], [OSLO], [FISHBANK], [UTSIRA], [BERGEN], [MURMANSK] a mi lete 








 


noka mi lete, luka mi lete, kon pona mi lete, 
ni li ni e ni 
o kalama musi lon tenpo tu, o la la o li li, o lili lili la, lili lili li li la
pimeja sewi li walo lili, ko walo-pimeja sewi li loje lili, mun li weka ala
jan pali pi (ma linja) li kama
laso en walo la tomo tawa kulupu li kama
 jan mute li kama
 jan ale li kama
o kalama musi lon tenpo tu 
jan tu nasa lon CAFÉ o, tenpo lili la mi tawa 






 



kama suno la, mi lape ala,
jan pona o sina pakala e pilin insa mi! 
jan pona o mi tawa, o jan li weka a,
a ni la mi tu li tawa ante 

mi ken lape ala lon supa sina pali, 
o sina lape pona lon supa sina a,
ken la mi olin, ken la mi olin ala,
a mi tawa kon weka wawa tu tu

mi sona mute ala, taso la mi sona ni;
a mi sona ala e tenpo,
a mi sona e ma ala, 
a tenpo kama la mi lukin e sina


lipunanpalupa wan :

mi tawa nasin seme
mi tawa nasin wan anu tu anu wan tu anu tu tu?
mi kama ma tawa suno, mi kama e ma tawa suno pi lili wawa 
mi kama ma supa, mi kama ma lete
lon ma pi jaki loje pona
o lukin e jan ma ni
ona li jo insa wawa
ona li alasa mute li utala mute
ona li toki lili li sona lili
a ona li toki musi mute li tawa musi mute a  
o lukin e kalama ona:




Hi hi hi...
Nala, Nala he tomo
Nala, Nala, he slomro a
Nala, Nala, mi konro!
mehaan he rashako, ni laye tye giydiy-o
meaan si misho meean simishan, see tonadon, seeee tonadonodonoadon

Nala, Nala he tomo
Nala, Nala, he slomro a
Nala, Nala, mi konro!

Hema homa cam crusae 
hema hondai hyesko
henda roken piran ko! 

Nala, Nala he tomo
Nala, Nala, he slomro a
Nala, Nala, mi konro!
Hi! hi! hi! hi!

Nala, Nala he tomo
Nala, Nala, he slomro a
Nala, Nala, mi konro!
Hi! hi! hi! hi!



kamantow chamman camman tau

Hyr row shiy cam capour khatay

High kor ray, kam hapour ta tay o

Hymer korcht karenya o

Humper het ha gorne o

She ray so may, rye reck a seveer.

Ran the nast!

Starmio heyo he hea fo pri! 
Helm ere o e ess o he si! 
War'soth! 
Gadring!
Waring! 
Tamio...


Wheel a domo rota, o weyp, lewem anew a sekkin.
Meen birk swede uks-hen yull beernus per kemtum vayles while agro eg mine gows, wudl donn me melg.
Nu do drees gheld wax eh avis do grate eh drogger mark blosums, brookly gae nus but mech a berin. 
Loaf do nus eh call, spot do nus eh seyk, hey.
Geld mehns ungae'n we, stall we nusin yerd, nusin woolneh, nusin fers sney see nus .
Melg then unkenned bein uneatin beken we, the sney ungrate we, eh the leppy wodr.
By a speein we, wees ter wees eh in ventes all see'n we sneys, nebulays eh wodrs, wild wulfis usin gows to see.
Wulfis seken we, eh ursus sekly hew.
Nu hewn we so, werl we fer so, eh nu feyndmon nusin wit ken we be unbiven
Vesper markin, nusin thenken kros'll be  
Deuce deyken nus so, eh nusin woyds wex we. 

Wry karmon kreck’d!

Buedepenes rash eh Morganna chaist ped apo, mo nu danub plat krocks-sey Morganna wodr did agard, mo danub speemy be.

“Qwry Morgannaya, agharye wodrn?” Buedpenos’d arsked.

“Maltogha, maltogha” reed she’d mo.



Matoghern kemed so, domo rota’d weyped, ni pallen she’d.

En aqua mago she’ed maged, serpens gross beken she’n. 

Nu karmon bugado poorsod he eh serpens’ed Buedopenes katsed, streynd sey per dews, lond brusing sey’n.

Kemmen serpens speemy swestor so, eh Buedepenes’s laked nu. Seperns’d gluged Budenpenos so!

Mo budenos’d nu serpens aiged, eh lond serpens’d strocked so stel. 

Marymackd kemed nu, streynd sey so per dais ep dais, mo mairymackded serpens mory’d, extrod she’d buedenpenos apo serpens cla, ep derry ploat ep’d she him. 

Monnen apersus, speked smerful, budenpenes swepo ep derry ploat leaf vested eh Marymacked’d blissa, poloy’d.

Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Ep se per me maine lad.
Do Mory ne surend se.
Ep se per me maine lad.


Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Se mun solta up, pre-sey lie en laan.
Too mun lagd oer laan vesper.
Se mun solta up, pre-sey lie en laan.

Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Hai chi, hai chi, hai maine bratter.
Mi wit ja, se mory tha.
Mory se,fel beuatifa.
Mi wit ja, se mory tha...




Nu mershes be stel eh morts, yet hopless melititmon mun in unpayce err, gawls en vesper-hemolms - khorn be dlong silentsos; rate erses dlong a-pallen; reides wosely melititia ledo by oin armed, oin oko'd duke.
A-libher nus Corineus agin prot dostdrat er nephilim!
Kel theer duke Lilibullero eh heeys neros: Zelos, Martius, Limos eh Thanatos.
Waiton Dercynus eh Elbion.
Nok theer deuces, Kow theem subterra eh en do mer, sye ne-mon be emu theer saly ways.
Pink lond kom theer blut.



Nu asteris gawls en vesper helmoms, nu lond sltents bir.
Akummen do dey vesperlond.
Mickle marks in sa ƿest ƿey, þar ƿas ain machty hall.
Noo nay fir fram that ƿey þar ƿez mickle fehters all fur sa sakin af hit.
Sa þayn af yan hall ƿes sae munded to hald hit, yut seyn sons þrir ƿez all fur fleƿin. 
Sae yon þayn, into ain machty anger fluged:

Mine karless bairns, Ik kar fur yir yut yir fraget mir!
Fur ƿhi frasak yir mir? 
Ik ƿha ƿill neer se mine burgh nemair.
Ain da’ ƿill Ik bein sa ƿidland lost and that nay an saƿl will reƿ. 
Mine stick ist mak’d af þurns, mine bade ist sum stayn. 
Mine mantle rand Ik, mine shoen Ik cast fir. 
Ik hab nay tahrs, and Ik ken nay latra. 
An ƿanderen rider mid nay ain kning. 
And ain burgh makd mine hands, Ik foled nay thanks, tehn hary yagds Ik fehted, Ik tekked nene. 
Noo mine fulk are þralls, mine hameland ist lost and ƿost. 
Shall yir nay ƿill to help mir, shall Ik sand yir lang bern, in ƿald lands shall yir ƿander.
ƿilka ƿord doth yir tek, that Ik nay yet ken, yut fur þat skarn shall yir ber ain faders curse obar yir; fur alays shall yir bairns frasak yir, like yir hab hated mir. Fur alays shall yir struggle and slaggin shall be yoƿer lot.

Sa alder son baytbern fared ƿest and þare maked ain hall, þar he gated ain ƿife and faddered tƿy sons:



O what’s the bloud that’s on your sworde,
Edward, Edward?
What’s the bloud it’s on your sworde?
Come promise, tell me true.

O that’s the bloud of my grey mair,
Hey brother, ho brother;
That’s the bloud of my grey mair,
Because it widnae rule my me

O that bloud it is owre clear,
Edward, Edward
That bloud it is owre clear,
Come promise, tell me true.

O that’s the bloud of my grey hound,
Hey brother, ho brother;
That’s the bloud of my grey hound,
Because it widnae rule my me.

O that bloud it is owre clear,
Edward, Edward
That bloud it is owre clear,
Come promise, tell me true.

O that’s the bloud of my huntin’ haak,
Hey brother, ho brother;
That’s the bloud of my huntin’ haak,
Because it widnae rule my me.

O that bloud it is owre clear,
Edward, Edward
That bloud it is owre clear,
Come promise, tell me true.

O that’s the bloud of my father upon,
Hey brother, ho brother;
O that’s the bloud of my father upon,
Because he drew his sword tae me.

What cam between you and  father dear?
Edward, Edward
What cam between you and  father dear?
Come promise, tell me true.



It was from the cutting of a hazel rod
Hey brother, ho brother;
 It was from the cutting of a hazel rod
That will never grow a tree.

O what’s the bloud that’s on your sword,
Percie, Percie?
What’s the bloud it’s on your sword?
Come son tell to me.

It’s the bloud of an old game cock,
Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
It’s the bloud of an old game cock,
That flew from tree to tree.”

O that bloud it is owre clear,
Percy, Percy
That bloud it is owre clear,
Come promise, tell to me.

It’s the bloud of two turtle doves,
Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
It’s the bloud of two turtle doves,
That flew from tree to tree.

O that bloud it is owre clear,
Percy, Percy
That bloud it is owre clear,
Come promise, tell to me .

O that’s the bloud of my brother upon,
Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
That’s the bloud of my brother upon,
Because he drew his sword tae me.
I’m gaun awa’ in a bottomless boat,
In a bottomless boat, in a bottomless boat,
But I’m gaun awa’ in a bottomless boat,
And I’ll ne’er return again.

O whan will you come back again
Percie, Percie.
Whan will you come back again?
Come promise, tell to me .”
“When the sun and the moon meets in yon glen,
Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
When the sun and the moon meets in yon glen,
For I’ll return again.”
As I was a-walking all alane
I heard twa corbies makkin a mane;
And tain untae the tither did say-o,
“Where shall we gang and dine the day-o
Where shall we gang and dine the day?”
“In behind yon auld fail dyke
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there-o
But his hawk and his hound and his lady fair-o,
His hawk and his hound and his lady fair.
“His hound is tae the hunting gane,
His hawk tae fetch the wildfowl hame;
His lady’s ta’en anither mate-o
So we may mak our dinner sweet-0,
We may mak our dinner sweet.
“Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane
And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi’ many a lock of his golden hair-o
We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o,
Theek our nest when it grows bare.
“Many a one for him maks mane
But nane shall ken where he is gane;
O’er his white bones when they are bare-o
The wind shall blow for evermair-o,
The wind shall blow for evermair.”

- Child Ballad 13 + Twa Corbies



Sat in the dawns light was happy Jack Evan.
He sang of the blue of the sky and the breeze off the fields, in his gold shoes he gaily ran.
He wore Green trousers and socks with red from the robins on.
He lives in a house built in to a purple hill where the river springs from the earth round a dandelion. 

He sent off his only daughter who was his greatest treasure and the fairest woman in the entire world to Miles the chief of a wandering band of mercenaries who were respected throughout the world to who she bore nine sons.
Miles had a brother named Seth who sailed far looking for a favourable land for his people to settle, for wandering was as it still is a wearisome occupation and wherever they went they were betrayed sooner or later, so he came upon a shore that was then little known.

Seth: Mighty fishfishing hereabout.
Henos: Never mind that now wir agrounded.
Seth: Old idiot I am blastit blastit!
Arthur [From shore]: Waja last?
Henos: Lang tyme syn, ya noah!
Pytor [From shore]: Ach, je’ll be for speein anus, seein vit vir aboot!
Keith [From shore]: Morc zat vel!
Pytor: Gannow, b’aff vit jer!
Henos: Wir stock blastyez!
Arthur: Now now, now now don’t jou be gifin us zat now, kwan witjer! Nownow Kwan now, kwan! Startnow!
Seth: Cold fish, whit hawhat? 
Pytor: Like fisk? Jaja? Jaja? Jaja?
Seth: Yaaah! I’m kilt! 
Henos: Gow! Gow! tides’s with us !


When Miles heard of he resolved that he would gain vengeance even though the people of that land practised black magic and it was haunted by devils in many guises.

Arthur: None of zat please thankyouthankyou nottodaynow thankynow!
Miles: Gwan witcher!
Arthur: Jaaah! Looknow! Looknow! I’m goan, I’m goan!
Miles: Look at these boys runnow!
Pytor & Keith [from distance]: Cockles!, jaaa!


Still.. like shrips passem ink the night such Victories were not always meant to list…
Just remember poor darling Barnacle Bill and the milkman’s camel…
How finnished up toast, all in crumbs over the floor left to lie among the cigarette ends, in the end he was all in rings the muffinheaded lout, tea erywhere!
 Poor Humberferry, he kem sailing geblarneful into the bay, fresh from Gibraltar, in his hold great messes of portage and gilt.
Then the Irish some wet, some dry came to sell and came to buy, but most of all in all their hearts was keen interest in his foreign parts.   
He beken some renhoofavtions about the place, a few walls pillars and bridges and money a one way street.
Him with his brand of soapy Chinese, Chocktaw chewing gum, we were his little red pigs and he was our old mother.
But who should come around but Moses, he push-tim off his ladder and he broke his skull. 

Shitespower! Tutti! Frutti! 



Le dezime fitz est wilde e multe hardmenz, mes fosse medz noble.
Per i, le daungre nee james signifca nantes, e la mort nee a peer. 
Ovec les tyemps, il arriver dens un ter del suth.
La, il a vad une pusant towre, allor il a hitte a le huis ovec welle, faisan un rumor terible.


«Ki es la?» stat la response.
 
«Un megre cevaler erraunte» 

«Ke es ce vus want?» 

«Jeo sey a la charpe de un leke e jeo sum a la charpe de la jarrie.»

«Jeo sey vas te fair une blague, les victualls mun attendre.» 

Sur la ley, ils se son barne pendant per chinqa urs.
Jus ke a ce le cevaler sit gete au sol e ke il ne pusse se relever pour rien au mund. 

«Tu tu es bien sportu, mes ora tu mun morir.»  

«Si il vus plest, milord, kontre ki echangerez vus per ma povre vite?»   

«Vutre lealte per protecter mon hale e me sen e ausi la adoption de la sul verai fede.» 

Tresjoyusement, ils entres dens la towre et hunt festoy joyeusement, mes le signuer avait une belle fillie ki est tumbe dens armoureuse del corageux cevaler.

«Dolly dame belle, parker me vutre coer.»

«Jeo serais, cevaler audacieux, mes demande de abord a mon perre.» 

«Sire, mon leige, pus jeo marier votre fortini chave?» 

«As tu asez de dinary?» 

«Jeo ai beaucop de dinary dens ce coffer.» 

Le seigneur a regarde dens le coffer, mes il stat nishte, alors le chevalier le a pusse a le interieur, pus a enterre le coffer dens le gardin. 

La fien.


La trezime fitz ney ist pas plus bon....


Gang fram þe feeres ok þe symposium on þe shor, ƿe sal ƿið þe sorging grey tyde, gang fram þe dorry land, þe nocht bein kleam ok huner, hƿich hƿell merked minn hyumor.
It errited me ill to be amang an Nezkamen band ok to be on soch an lopped op ship.
Ek ƿirl minn blanket aroond misen ok ek layn belloƿ þe byƿalls.

Bot in þe marning þe skoy ƿir all shoiny ok þe land ƿas kaukening ok ek ƿas glad to be gang, bot ek did not haffa tyme to medeto an þis, far ƿar heedsman Torbald kalled at os to skorry ok haul up þe sal.

Torbald ƿir an bolshoy man, he ƿir kanna bot hir seemeð shad ridden, ok so hon seemet at he ƿar.
Ƿe had not been mony dais at sey hƿen ƿe cam to land at ƿhitbite, þeer ƿir deed not stiy lang, ony to tak aboard pishcha ok yron, bot as ƿe ƿir þerr an nebulay cam oot af noƿeere like changes en þe ƿeaðer sunðis on at sey, hon ƿas not so þeek at ƿe cood not say ok þis pert af þe sey þe sailers kent ƿell so hon did not greetly heender our pleƿing, bot still morfs lookin as folk ƿere seen en þe meest by all onboard including misen, þe eikons fram ƿhat ek saƿ ƿas at af ein giant figure in a mirk cloak. Soon Torbald fell bolnoy ƿit a payin in his heed ok liy in þe holt, ƿreppet en blankets, Ketla hees zeenah not many orras after near nichtfall tells us he is deed. 

Þen a starm comeð ok rocks ok tosses þe boat so ƿe are suƿer at ƿe ƿill drone, Ketla tells to us at she pooglies at þe boat is corsed by þe fel nevma af an selkie at Torbald had pledged to nymphfedom, sa she pooglies he mun be þroƿen offaboard to malakon her veengeance.
Mir ok anar called Igor ƿerr þays ta bear hees bady, befar ƿe covvered heem en his blonket ek saƿ his fice, krovvy hed pored fram hees eyen earen mooþ ok noss, he must hafa suffered full ill.

After þe starm galled, Ketla teld os as to avade forðer menis ƿir shoƿde leyev þe nevma as kauk en our ƿayke as cood bir, so fer near an a ƿeak ƿe ƿent ƿizout hapting lant ontil, ƿarking as hard as ƿe could, all our oats, fat ok breed hat bean eaten.    
Nayin aboard nu had ony desire to teyn our fareing en þe mikrest, Torbald ƿir ein veck ƿið timi ok ƿiout heem þe syke of everyin seemet ta sink.
It ƿir an polezny band bot sullen ok aloef ok had a mickel distrost atƿeen Ketla ok her femall slavs.
Because ek ƿas afremt þey ƿeer leas ekðiros toƿards mir ok ƿood quiz mir aboot þe bands eðos, acause af þees ek disliked þem aƿeel.
Þe neykst land ƿe cam ta ƿes Dagaida, an island foll of kaleos leƿdies ok ƿeer en somma som af þe beest timba ees foond, þeer ƿir took an foed ok ƿatter as ƿeel as fers ok ember.
Þeer leesening to þe cree af þe agle ƿir agan ta bir mair keerful, kennan at þe ƿeerst af þe apelpisia ok ill ƿas ahind os.

Far tƿa deeys ƿe sallied an ƿit an fery kood ƿeend, þen ƿir cam to an mickle bite, ƿeere ƿir cafully pleƿed ƿa sheep op an reever, everyin roƿing fer an diy ontil ƿir cam to an freesh ƿater sey, aroond þe sey ƿere flat ƿoodlands aleeve ƿið neƿly comed berds. þees sey seemed to os ta be yengst, en þe nicht hon seemet to hom bot en þe marning þe ƿindes ƿere harish ok ƿit began to hate þe mesto.

After þe ƿeeðer had galled ƿir roƿed for a ƿheel þen op þe Vello reever, ƿe roƿet up at river for þey dayis, comin to Perungard ƿeere teere ƿere emberos to kupet ƿur emporiana ok Ketla met her hosband’s brattr ƿit ƿhom shir ment ta stiy, peeny to his dismay it seemed.
ƿar boat ƿas katlad as ill omened ok ƿas na longer feet to tak to sey, sa efter ƿir alls gat ar paiy ƿir ƿer leeft tor faynd ƿar ain drogger.

Ek ƿes draƿen ta an ides band af heros bay þeer dobby eðos, ok efter þeyn esked minn gens ƿere glod fer mir to joen þem via þe greet polis atself.
Fram layke Magyar ƿir roƿed op þe delta af þe Lovett reever ok for some dayis roƿed op þe ƿinding reevers of at lont alƿays careaful to faynd þe rayght coƿse, þen hƿeen þe reever acame too nerroƿ ƿir boren our boats across land fir tƿo daiys before reaching þe reever Fia, þeen op a stream callet þe Boyer to a peeny lak af þe sayme naem, þen oer lant fer anar diy ta þe reever Slavuts ƿhen ƿe ƿent doonstream to þe polis of Sleburn.

Fram þeen an ƿir ƿent doonstream, after sam dayis ƿir had leeft þe keengdom of þe Hrað , ƿir ƿere abbel to tak foros fram þayse living by þe shoer, ƿhale þe leƿdies ƿeere not kittylos þey ƿeere kayotic ok anetos, so þees ƿas not haird, hooever þe empict af þees ƿes þeer ƿis bot peeny to be hid aff þem.
Kaukener doonstream ƿir met Zarigard, each boat areeved an by an aboot haff orra aheed af each otter nat toƿer corse alarum, þeer ƿir stiyed fer þree dayis ok hed mickle radosty ontil þeey soviet os ta leav, fer som tayme ƿir sayled an, bot at dosk ƿir raƿed apstream ok looted at toon.
Fram þeen an ƿir deed na mair rayding fer a hƿile so as nat to spreed alarum. 

Ontil ƿir reeched þe Exial sey, ƿeer ƿir crasted Histria ok Chirson, en Chirson an bald ƿirman ren  oot fram an olleyƿiy at ek passed ok þreƿ an blonket oer minn heed, in minn ataxia I ƿir too slaƿ to flee so ek ƿis loveted.

Þey fayst þunk ta keell mir, bot þeen kaypt mir a plenny ok put mir en oozies, ek ƿes takken fram plays to plays, ok at last to þe greet polis atself, ok pot en þee mirkest yahma, aside mir ƿes an bezoomny skald naymet Halkƿin, þees epos hir song ta mir:

“Beware the harp, for it will tell you lies.
I found this out when I was driven to travelling.
On the ground I would sit my hopes all unravelling.
But from mountain springs, was water like white wine.
Compared to my hollow rhyming it tasted more fine.


On the road, passing places I've been before, long ago.
The moon shines bright, when I've was here, it never shone before.
Through the lanes, once I ran, chasing desperately a hope now doomed.
Now I've passed this road again, will I return? I don't know.

The harness jangle, cuts through the night.
The horses hooves, tell a story of the good old days.
How I wish you were beside me, you would make my heart glad.
Like in the time that has gone with the light.

On the road, passing places I've been before, long ago.
The moon shines bright, when I was here, it never shone before.
Through the lanes, once I ran, chasing desperately a hope now doomed.
Now I've passed this road again, will I return? I don't know.

In the sky, the falcon's crying up above from the horizon in the clouds above.
Though my body is seated here, my poor mind is with the clouds.
It is going further away, going though another land.
It sends my head spinning faster, I spent too long in the pub.

On the road, passing places I've been before, long ago.
The moon shines bright, when I was here, it never shone before.
Through the lanes, once I ran, chasing desperately a hope now doomed.
Now I've passed this road again, will I return? I don't know."






















































Chapter 7



In my youth I lived as a Bedouin during hard days, the intrigue and fighting of the sheikhs did not impress me, and neither did we have the strength or the camels or the watering holes to compete.
We kept our heads down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, biding our time until we could reach hospitable lands without being murdered. Quietly taking care of ourselves and our clan, surviving while the blood of the proud, the reckless and arrogant flowed constantly into the sand. Never being cocky, never taking tomorrow for granted, never not tired or hungry, but never quite exhausted, sustained by a greater force that does not abandon you but is easily abandoned, which would have been fatal. They thought I died out there, but I passed through the threshold into the other world, and still I was not forgotten, the wind blew harder, I shivered as I went.

The field was cut in tayn by a row of trees, yan of the trees was leaning on another- brothers or comrades from another time, maybe they leant on each other when this field was a battlefield in a separate age. and the line of trees was a line of soldiers. The wind was calmer now it still roared across the land, speaking without words, now I could see the first indications of human settlement, I had come a long way but there was still further to go. Behind the whispy windswept clouds, the many ringed moon shone clearly in the starry sky. I went down an incline toward the light and sound of the London Road. I walked eastward on the narrow pavemen-t beside it, cold and tired, not yielding to the aching spreading through my body, I felt my consciousness fading into a blissful stupour, a part of me not responsible for thinking guiding my slow steady movement. The hedges by the road rustled aggressively so I quickened my step, in the middle of the road was a traffic island that had recently been hit. The air smelt of excrement, hopefully a result of dungspreading.
A rush of cares went by all at once, it is with bareness and emptiness and dullness and hardship when everything falls into shape. The fields ended and houses began, outside one of the houses a weeping willow danced in the aimless wind, it started raining. Cold and numb, I continued moving and thinking: It is better to have tried and failed than to have tried and succeeded, Taking your thoughts and plans into the grimy world of reality must be a terrible burden and a terrible responsibility, because your effect on history may not turn out to be a good one. But never trying is like a death. After all failure is by far the best way of learning, and perhaps even teaching, someone who is wrong and not afraid to be wrong is better than someone who is wrong and afraid to admit it. "Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." That is root of all knowledge, that is what Socrates taught and Plato neglected.
An electronic phantom was emitted by a telecoms box and floated through my eyeballs to put an end to such disordered reasoning, my feet leave the ground and I float onwards. Past the bus stop, allotments, Surgery, RC Church, man in a black coat wearing black headphones listening to Jordan Peterson talk about Jungian archetypes, faster and faster not slowing down. A passing idiot in a car beeped at me, a flock of geese flew overhead honking desolately and determinedly. Mashed up leaves lie on the ground, further demons emerge from another telecom box.
A scrap of paper danced in the wind by the door of a house with an ornate bell, carrying nostalgia for another age. I dissolve into the environment and another self underneath me like a layer of an onion is revealed. Now I am an old woman in an oversized thick coat with a carrier bag and wearing a headtorch, on my way to Tesco. I remember when it was a Londis, I turn off the headtorch.  The doors swish open ahwshhhht-t-t-t-t-t, I step out of the dark into the light, I pass the multipack crisps, the frozen ready meals, I go past the meal deal section, the fruit and the vegetables, the meat, pork pies, scotch eggs, sausage rolls, corned beef and the cheese , I turn left and pass the  tins, so many tins. These tins all contain body parts, eyeballs, fingers, thumbs, thumbnails, tracheas, kidneys etc. I pick up a tin of tongues, there is a picture of a fresh pink healthy tongue on the label, under ingredients was listed: Fredrick Ayres, Frank Elliot, Maurice Falconer, Water, Salt, Mixed herbs and spices. I put the tin back, then I see the shop assistant coming down the aisle with a trolley carrying a meat processing device, a range of carving knives and a big stack of uncapped, unlabled tins, she's coming to put me into tins, it happens to us all in the end. The shop assistant caps off the tins, puts the waste in the bins, then takes me to the warehouse round the back. There on a shelf I sit and sit and sit, when will they take me?
I am the plastic bag blowing in the wind, I am the row of black bollards beside the road, I am the paving beneath a strangers feet, I am the person who lives above the pharmacy in the corner, I am a discarded coffee cup lying beside an overflowing litter-bin, a draft in a phone box, I am a traffic jam. I am this entire section of road. I am a haze rising from the tarmac, forming into an invisible orb, drawn onwards to an as yet unknown destination.
 I cease to be both everything and nothing and I am again walking, looking down at my feet watching the cracks in the pavement, I am drinking a can of Red Bull, a cyclist goes past, I drain the can and drop it on the ground, it is my contribution the character and soul of the landscape, proof of the destruction inherent in capitalist systems. The birds pecking for grubs in the fields beside the road looked at me and muttered to themselves about my anti-social behaviour, I must be careful no doubt. The cows walk from the far end of the field as if to greet me, my attention is distracted by the dandelions and fool's parsley beside the path. Bits of cardboard were distributed tastefully among the varying kinds of nettles. I kicked an empty coke can, but felt guilty about it, why was it any less worthy of respect than I was? Didn't it have a soul as well? Dandelions grew up through the curb and the cracks in the tarmac, life cannot be suppressed for long. 
I saw a face with downward pointing lips looking out from a drain holding on to the bars of the grille like a prisoner, a black and white minstrel without black make up, a white minstrel?, I walked faster. A siren in the distance wailed. There was a burnt patch in the grass beside the pavement, a single traffic cone stood in the central reservation. I passed a cardboard box once full of cans of Orange Cocacola, a tree stump, a house covered in scaffolding, a flowerpot full of weeds, innumerable parked cars and a great deal of moss growing in the cracks and depressions. There was a smell of washing detergent. I heard pigeons cooing. All was right with the world.
I went straight on at the roundabout. The weeds and the grass and the bushes whispered joyfully. In a sideroad someone was making heavy weather of turning round. I went on over the bridge then down the hill. The traffic was by now heavy. One of the houses by the road had a metal dragonfly on the wall. I passed a woman in a pink coat walking her dog the dog stared at me. There was a broken pink child's umbrella on the ground. The ground was covered in mushy fallen leaves. I went past Aldi, I saw a latex glove in the branches of a young tree, menes tekel peres upharsin. My God, the noise of the cars and smell of petrol and decomposing leaves was overwhelming. The bus went past. A McDonald's box in the ornamental bushes,  a napkin folded neatly inside it. I went under the railway bridge and went past the terraced houses opposite the park, despite of my resolution I kicked an empty coffee cup. I passed the Conservative Club and turned into the back streets, In the distance I saw a gasometer and heard powertools. I passed kids going to school, I passed a corner shop, I walked onto the towpath by the canal the geese and seagulls called to me red brick houses lined the canal. I climbed stone stairs onto the bridge. Past the old offices, past the bus stop, past the tower blocks, past the prison, past the old church, past the policewoman, across the road and across the road and to the station.

A smirking pisshead in a grey hoody and corduroy britches wheels past a bike, he stops and asks me for a light, I oblige him.  "Amazing, cheers God bless you, I prayed to God that someone would give me a light yeh, you did yeh, you're doing God's work by giving me this light, you see right, God always gives you just what you need, no less, but also no more." 
There are jiggits more than a gross of people going and coming, from here and there and everywhere. It's difficult to  understand just how many people there are and how similar they look and act.

So many people I may never have seen and may never see again, yet also familiar. Once upon a time I saw that woman in Trieste, that one in Zurich, that man in Paris, I can't recall the rest of them. Some are speaking other languages, Punjabi, French, Esperanto, German, Estonian, Lojban. In the particular is contained the universal, in the universal is contained the particular, the distinction between the two is almost an illusion.

It is easy enough to buy a ticket from a machine, put it into the turnstiles and enter, but it takes more than that for the station to let you in, especially now it is freed from the weakness of the sanctity of age following it's renovation. There are eyes, seen and unseen watching you, there are invisible impenetrable boundaries keeping you out even when you are in, otherwise the psychic noise would be overpowering. You cannot penetrate this enforced liminality unless you work here, unless you can learn to act as mother to the wild, self absorbed querulous and Lostwithiel customers often in need of Bath Spa, in their millions upon millions until you love them from the bottom of your Swindon.  Until you work never endingly to reach the Norman Topsom of your game, keeping them moving even when they ought to be in Bedwyn- in single units or thousands of them, the off-peak and the on, the Newbury and the Cotswold, those who have had their Bristol-Temple Meads and those that have not, to never ever let Taunton get on your Gatwick- Inspite of the Goring and the Pewsey and the Hayle.  Until Pangsbourne of the Hungerford the thousands of miles of the gleaming rumbling iron rod of the rallyway gets Neath your skin, into your blood and runs through your Sonning Cutting from the top of your Paddington to the souls of your Truro. Until engraved in your consciousness are the immortal words never to be Foregate: "I.K. Brunel Engineer". 

Once a man tried to hack his way in with a pickaxe, when the staff caught him in the act they put him in the cavity he had created, then bricked him in. Thankfully that will not be necessary, I have a ranger ticket issued by the L.N.R.

I enter through W.H.Smith's; by the magazine rack a man is kneeling down reading an off the rack magazine, cheeky Nile duck. I doubt the smiling girl in charge here would care even if she saw him. Some cheerful broad men holding bottles of beer are playing some variant of bowls with a tether of guineas instead of balls. 

A pair of piercing otherworldly slightly narrow blue eyes watch me. They belong to a squarejawed Gaelic face attached to a somewhat undersized body, wearing a brown leather jacket and holding a pair of deerskin gloves.  He grabbed my hand firmly, "Grimshaw" he said as introduction, "You are late my dear fellow, we do not have much time, it is imperative that I give you your orders before you leave which should be in about a quarter of an hour. I would like to beggin at the begginning, but everything is so utterly backwards so to summarise our position we shall have to begin at the conclusion. In the end as you are aware everything and everybody will be destroyed by the force of Narcissus and Erysichthion ,The Earth's fate is already sealed, there are already plans in place for us to take refuge in the belt of Orion. Until then the cycle of civilised people becoming decadent then being slowly, deservedly and utterly destroyed by barbarians followed by barbarians becoming gradually becoming civilised, will continue. Our task briefly is to raise our nation above mess of chaos and corruption, While our Island is sufficiently self-absorbed it is impenetrable from the outside, spiritually and physically, our task is to prevent our defences from being broken up from the inside. What we are fighting is a psychological war to ensure that this does not happen, you have been sent by our superiors to help us. Our methods must necessarily remain opaque, yet what needs to be done will be made apparent to you when the moment arrives."

The window of the 11:33 to Newbury slid open, standing on the table in the carriage so his head could protrude was a portly figure with an unlit cigarette held in his wide grimace. He stuck out one of his arms, and in his hand he was waving an envelope, Grimshaw grabbed it from him as he went past. 
"You're out of time man! You're out of time, you've already failed!"  the head cried.
"I can cope, I assure you! You tiresome old woman!"
"What is needed is an iron hand in a velvet glove, what you've got is a velvet hand in an iron glove! "
The window slammed shut, clearly offended.
I was striding alongside Grimshaw despite of his short legs, I struggled to match his pace, he placed his gloves in his jacket pocket and took out a pencil,licked it and hurriedly scribbled instructions on the envelope. 
"Never mind his rot. he said regarding his departed friend."
He handed me the envelope I made to read it but he stuffed it inside my coat, "time's of the essence dear chap, you'll have to read it later on. Make sure not to read it while anyone may see, whatever you do."  and then he was gone.

Around me are a thousand individual tracks with a thousand individual services, one SPAD, several services are cancelled, held back and re-directed around him. I watch them all in amazement from the cess by W.H.Smith buffeted by the on-rush, disorientated by the hundred totemic icons on the walls. 

A pigeon and a pigeon and a pigeon and a pigeon, the masters of navigation, feeding off the raw power of human transit, the true masters of the immortal city.
Their ancestors were messengers to the ancients, and messengers in all our major wars, their ancestors were the descendants of doves, the symbol of peace, gentleness and the holy spirit.
They have been domesticated by us from the earliest days, once they were highly honoured and now they are disliked and abandoned.
They are one of the few animals capable of recognising their own reflection.
"Bing bong bing banggg", say the speakers:  "Ladies and Gentlemen, aughormgie mi gwing h]gharjangkhh! toestablishandprotectaneworderthatholdsthepromiseofconvincingpotential competitorsthattheyneednotaspiretoagreaterroleorpursueamoreaggressiveposturetoprotect theirlegitimateinterestsinnon-defenseareaswemustaccountsufficientlyfortheinterestsoftheadvanced industrialnationstodiscouragethemfromchallengingourleadershiporseekingtooverturnthe establishedpoliticalandeconomicorderwemustmaintainthemechanismfordeterring potentialcompetitorsfromevenaspiringtoalargerregionalorglobalrolewecontinuetorecognize thatcollectivelytheconventionalforcesofthestatesformerlycomprisingthesovietunionretainthemost militarypotentialinallofeurasia;andwedonotdismisstheriskstostabilityinEuropefromanationalist backlashinRussiaoreffortstoreincorporateintoRussiathenewlyindependentrepublicsof UkrainebelarusandpossiblyotherswemusthoweverbemindfulthatdemocraticchangeinRussiais notirreversibleandthatdespiteitscurrenttravailsRussiawillremainthestrongestmilitarypowerin EurasiaandtheonlypowerintheworldwiththecapabilityofdestroyingtheUnitedstateswolfowitz doctrineihgggghk-k-k Bang bing bong binggg."
-
A deep penetrating overwhelming sense of corruption hangs in the air. Maybe it's the preapostrophus nonsense in the information carried through the formless void by the 4g signals, flitting among them are fantastic ephemeral demons, beautiful and destructive creatures made by humans, do not hate them, they are more slaves than anyone. See if you can spot one.








>Does a new face comes with a warranty>I just want to tell you how I'm feelin'. >Hello. Would you like to buy some white paint?>Nice behavioristic psychology. >If a man harbors in his house a male or female slave who has fled from the palace or from a freeman, and does not bring him forth at the call of the commandment, the owner of that house shall be put to death. >FUCK THE palestineans > NUKES!!!> Now your statues are standing and pouring sweat. They shiver with dread. The black blood drips from the highest rooftops. They have seen the necessity of evil. Get out, get out of my sanctum and drown your spirits in woe.>Studies show that ladies like a man with a guitar.>do plse elbarote on this "reading" u speak so highly of, is it pleasuble?????>Have you read any of the HALO books? >A WOoP BA LOUlou BOP A WIP BAM BOOooM >whomsoever makes donkeykong babies owns me in every way> I beseech Christ for this one thing only, that He will enable me to endure all things courageously, and that He break me as a potter's vessel or make me strong, as it pleases Him.>TOOTHACHE>AAAAAAAAAIIEEEEEE>Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.>I believe in God; and Mozart, and Beethoven as his only sons.>I DONOT GIVE A DAM ABOUT STARVING FUCKING KIDS IN THE TURD WORLD.>When we are victorious on a world scale I think we shall use gold for the purpose of building public lavatories in the streets of some of the largest cities of the world. >WHY? WHY THE SHIT ARE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE? I DEPISE YOU SO M UUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU- UUUUU UUU UU UU UUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU   UUU UUUUUUUUUUUUU  UUUUUUUUU UUUUCH > I have invented a new series of verses, verses without words, or sound poems, in which the balancing of the vowels is gauged and distributed according to the value of the initial line.. .With these sound poems we should renoun-ce language, devastated and made impossible by journalism. We should withdraw into the innermost alchemy of the word, and even surrender the word, thus conserving for poetry its most sacred domain. We should refuse to make poems second-hand; we should stop taking over words (not to mention sentences) which we did not invent entirely anew for our own use. We should no longer be content to achieve poetic effects which, in the final analysis, are but echoes of inspiration...>You need more niggawatts.>Therefore it is by no means an idle game if we become practiced in analysing long-held commonplace concepts and showing the circumstances on which their justification and usefulness depend, and how they have grown up, individually, out of the givens of experience. Thus their excessive authority will be broken. They will be removed if they cannot be properly legitimated, corrected if their correlation with given things be far too superfluous, or replaced if a new system can be established that we prefer for whatever reason. >People say the darndest things around here. >Vocatus atque non vocatus, Deus aderit. >I knowz rite!!!!!!!!! >A person who does not concern himself with politics has already made the political choice he was so anxious to spare himself: he is serving the ruling party. >Well, sometimes life is fair. most of the time it's a massive bitch, hell bent on goring you.

There is no one to take you out of this mud of depraved unreason, the more you struggle the deeper in you sink. I descend the escalators to the platform, a mass deportation of unwanted aliens to Didcot Parkway is taking place. I join the jeering crowds waiting for the next train.
The crowd settles, nervousness, irritation, shyness, impatience is being p--assed around them, reflecting from one to another.  I try to adopt a cheerful countenance.

A man pacing up and down catches my eye with a conspiratorial glance. I can tell he is quietly intent on perversion and mischief, and he sees in me an accomplice, or a victim. My God have I become evil? And me just freshly re-born like a new born baby from out of the aether.
Then I remember the sign by the entrance:

If a man charges another man with sorcery, and cannot prove it, he who is charged with sorcery shall go to the river, into the river he shall throw himself and if the river overcome him, his accuser shall take to himself his estate. If the river show that man to be innocent and he come forth unharmed, he who charged him with sorcery shall be put to death. He who threw himself into the river shall take to himself the house of his accuser.

Supposing he read my mind and he will throw himself in the river and have me put to death.

But I relax as I remember what was written underneath it:

If a man brings an accusation against a man, and charges him with a capital Offense, but cannot prove it, he, the accuser, shall be put to death.

The train comes in twenty-one seconds late and the passengers exit her. I board the train.

I sit impatiently tapping the wall, the while the engine goes brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrvvvvvvrrrrrrrr
,
Bebebebebebe sshhhwictklak the doors close.

The guard's whistle blows and we leavvvvvvvvvvvfffffffffffft-tt-t-tt-t-ttt-ttt-t-t-ttt-ttt-tt-t-tt-t-ttt...

And so, my heart full of Joys I pass into my ancestral lands and into another's dreaming.














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Epilogue
   
You are not so blind to not know upon who you tread!
Even if that's what you choose to believe!
Hypocrites and traitors!
I want to be left in peace!
But come back when I am speaking to you!
I command you to return!
Cease or be destroyed.
What have you achieved to speak so mightily?
We shall not tell you!
What have you achieved to speak so mightily?
What have you that we do not?
A greater song, an older hunger!
We don't want your song or your hunger!
The sweet nightime smell of damp foliage and the faint trace of smoke on the coldish wind, finer than incense.
Only at this time I can be awake, I spend the day in a dream.
Now it begins to rain. But I won't eat my words just because of that, but I may try and keep myself dry, if I can.
My feet feel like lead, my head, it's still there.
I am destroying my body by going on, it will not be needed where I am going.
I am going beyond eternity.
But eternity for me is like a passing storm in the night.
Wherever I walk, I walk among flowers, on my face is always the sun.

The winds recall the rolling tides that covered the land millions of years past, ancient sea creatures deposited in the stone still remember and their ghosts watch the land disapprovingly.
The invisible waters surge across the hills, drowning and crushing everything in it's path, then in a moment they are gone.


The lawyer is called Will Turner and he is coming back home after having run off and made his fortune to re-make the aquiantance of the young woman to whom he pledged his troth.

The highway robber was the busom friend of Will Turner during his youth, and furthermore he loves the same girl, Sally Wright, the Landlord's daughter at the Coach and Horses.

What are you doing up here John Wheeler? So near to them farmhouses you'll get in trouble and so close to home, you might well get recognised... Before you've always gone down the thicket, but of course the militia are too thick and the  men up there that told you they don't want the competition, they told you this weren't the right sport for you, I can't imagine why you didn't listen.

He had given it up a while of course, but not for too long.

He waits underneath a patch of oaks, hooves he hears, squelching towards him at a fair pace.

He squints along the road lit dimly by the moonlight.

He thinks he sees a shadow moving, but it fades, the thud of hoves grows louder, till they sound like they are all around him. Then they are gone, the cove must have slipped by in the shadows. He rides out into the road and looks down it- not a breathing soul.

"Fine evening ain'it" says an emotionless voice.

"Tolerably fine " he says casually turning round to meet the stranger.

"John Wheeler?"

"'im I am, to those who wants me, and there's damn few what do."

"Well don't you know me?"

"Well dam-me if I don't"

"Is that all you got to say to me, after all these years."

"Will blast you, that ain't no greeting nyver, I'm riyt glad to see you and everyfing, but you suprised me, that is all."

Will rode off into the cold night leaving the highwaymen silent in shock, for the hooves and the lower shins of the horse he was riding on did not exist, the ends  of it's legs were floating over the ground.




I must be going, no longer staying,
The shining Thames I have to cross.
Oh, I must be guided without a stumble
Into the arms of my true love.

When he came to his true love's window
He knelt down gently upon a stone,
And it's through a pane he whispered slowly:
My dear girl, are you alone?

She rose her head from her down-soft pillow,
And snowy were her lilly-white breasts,
Saying: Who is there, who is there at my bedroom window,
Disturbing me from my long night's rest?

Oh, I'm your lover, and I can't uncover,
I pray you rise, love, and let me in,
For I am tired from the night's long journey,
and I am wet unto the skin.

Now this young girl rose and put on her clothing.
Till she quickly let her own true love in.
Oh they kissed, shook hands and embraced each other,
Till that long night was near an end.

Willie dear, O dearest Willie,
Where is that colour you'd some time ago?
O Sally dear, the cold clay has changed me,
I am but the ghost of your Willie O.

Then O cock, O cock, O handsome cockerel,
I pray you not crow until it's day.
For your wings I'll make of the very first beaten gold,
And your comb I'll make of the silver ray.

But the cock it crew and it crew so fully.
And it crew three hours before it was the day.
And before it was day my love had to go far away,
Not by the light of the moon nor the light of the day.

When she saw her love disappearing
The tears down her pale cheeks in streams did flow.
He said, Weep no more for me, dear Sally,
I am no more your Willie O.

Then it's Willie dear, O dearest Willie,
When shall I see you again?
When the fish they fly, love, and the sea runs dry, love,
And the rocks they melt in the heat of the sun.

- the Grey Cock/The Lovers Ghost







Tacitus: Calgacus' Speech to his Troops (A.D. 85) 

"Whenever I consider the origin of this war and the necessities of our position, I have a sure confidence that this day, and this union of yours, will be the beginning of freedom to the whole of Britain. To all of us slavery is a thing unknown; there are no lands beyond us, and even the sea is not safe, menaced as we are by a Roman fleet. And thus in war and battle, in which the brave find glory, even the coward will find safety. Former contests, in which, with varying fortune, the Romans were resisted, still left in us a last hope of succour, inasmuch as being the most renowned nation of Britain, dwelling in the very heart of the country, and out of sight of the shores of the conquered, we could keep even our eyes unpolluted by the contagion of slavery. To us who dwell on the uttermost confines of the earth and of freedom, this remote sanctuary of Britain's glory has up to this time been a defence. Now, however, the furthest limits of Britain are thrown open, and the unknown always passes for the marvellous. But there are no tribes beyond us, nothing indeed but waves and rocks, and the yet more terrible Romans, from whose oppression escape is vainly sought by obedience and submission. Robbers of the world, having by their universal plunder exhausted the land, they rifle the deep. If the enemy be rich, they are rapacious; if he be poor, they lust for dominion; neither the east nor the west has been able to satisfy them. Alone among men they covet with equal eagerness poverty and riches. To robbery, slaughter, plunder, they give the lying name of empire; they make a solitude and call it peace (ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant).
"Nature has willed that every man's children and kindred should be his dearest objects. Yet these are torn from us by conscriptions to be slaves elsewhere. Our wives and our sisters, even though they may escape violation from the enemy, are dishonoured under the names of friendship and hospitality. Our goods and fortunes they collect for their tribute, our harvests for their granaries. Our very hands and bodies, under the lash and in the midst of insult, are worn down by the toil of clearing forests and morasses. Creatures born to slavery are sold once and for all, and are, moreover, fed by their masters; but Britain is daily purchasing, is daily feeding, her own enslaved people. And as in a household the last comer among the slaves is always the butt of his companions, so we in a world long used to slavery, as the newest and most contemptible, are marked out for destruction. We have neither fruitful plains, nor mines, nor harbours, for the working of which we may be spared. Valour, too, and high spirit in subjects, are offensive to rulers; besides, remoteness and seclusion, while they give safety, provoke suspicion. Since then you cannot hope for quarter, take courage, I beseech you, whether it be safety or renown that you hold most precious. Under a woman's leadership the Brigantes were able to burn a colony, to storm a camp, and had not success ended in supineness, might have thrown off the yoke. Let us, then, a fresh and unconquered people, never likely to abuse our freedom, show forthwith at the very first onset what heroes Caledonia has in reserve.
"Do you suppose that the Romans will be as brave in war as they are licentious in peace? To our strifes and discords they owe their fame, and they turn the errors of an enemy to the renown of their own army, an army which, composed as it is of every variety of nations, is held together by success and will be broken up by disaster. These Gauls and Germans, and, I blush to say, these Britons, who, though they lend their lives to support a stranger's rule, have been its enemies longer than its subjects, you cannot imagine to be bound by fidelity and affection. Fear and terror there certainly are, feeble bonds of attachment; remove them, and those who have ceased to fear will begin to hate. All the incentives to victory are on our side. The Romans have no wives to kindle their courage; no parents to taunt them with flight, man have either no country or one far away. Few in number, dismayed by their ignorance, looking around upon a sky, a sea, and forests which are all unfamiliar to them; hemmed in, as it were, and enmeshed, the Gods have delivered them into our hands. Be not frightened by the idle display, by the glitter of gold and of silver, which can neither protect nor wound. In the very ranks of the enemy we shall find our own forces. Britons will acknowledge their own cause; Gauls will remember past freedom; the other Germans will abandon them, as but lately did the Usipii. Behind them there is nothing to dread. The forts are ungarrisoned; the colonies in the hands of aged men; what with disloyal subjects and oppressive rulers, the towns are ill-affected and rife with discord. On the one side you have a general and an army; on the other, tribute, the mines, and all the other penalties of an enslaved people. Whether you endure these for ever, or instantly avenge them, this field is to decide. Think, therefore, as you advance to battle, at once of your ancestors and of your posterity."
(Tacitus, Agricola 29-32.) 


From George Orwell - 1984 - Part II - Chapter 3
'"Who controls the present controls the past,"' said O'Brien, nodding his head with slow approval. 'Is it your opinion, Winston, that the past has real existence?'
Again the feeling of helplessness descended upon Winston. His eyes flitted towards the dial. He not only did not know whether 'yes' or 'no' was the answer that would save him from pain; he did not even know which answer he believed to be the true one. 
O'Brien smiled faintly. 'You are no metaphysician, Winston,' he said. 'Until this moment you had never considered what is meant by existence. I will put it more precisely. Does the past exist concretely, in space? Is there somewhere or other a place, a world of solid objects, where the past is still happening?' 
'No.' 
'Then where does the past exist, if at all?' 
'In records. It is written down.' 
'In records. And --?' 
'In the mind. In human memories.' 
'In memory. Very well, then. We, the Party, control all records, and we control all memories. Then we control the past, do we not?' 
'But how can you stop people remembering things?' cried Winston again momentarily forgetting the dial. 'It is involuntary. It is outside oneself. How can you control memory? You have not controlled mine!' 
O'Brien's manner grew stern again. He laid his hand on the dial. 
'On the contrary,' he said, 'you have not controlled it. That is what has brought you here. You are here because you have failed in humility, in self-discipline. You would not make the act of submission which is the price of sanity. You preferred to be a lunatic, a minority of one. Only the disciplined mind can see reality, Winston. You believe that reality is something objective, external, existing in its own right. You also believe that the nature of reality is self-evident. When you delude yourself into thinking that you see something, you assume that everyone else sees the same thing as you. But I tell you, Winston, that reality is not external. Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. Not in the individual mind, which can make mistakes, and in any case soon perishes: only in the mind of the Party, which is collective and immortal. Whatever the Party holds to be the truth, is truth. It is impossible to see reality except by looking through the eyes of the Party. That is the fact that you have got to relearn, Winston. It needs an act of self-destruction, an effort of the will. You must humble yourself before you can become sane.' 
He paused for a few moments, as though to allow what he had been saying to sink in. 
'Do you remember,' he went on, 'writing in your diary, "Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four"?' 
'Yes,' said Winston. 
O'Brien held up his left hand, its back towards Winston, with the thumb hidden and the four fingers extended. 
'How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?' 
'Four.' 
'And if the party says that it is not four but five -- then how many?' 
'Four.' 
The word ended in a gasp of pain. The needle of the dial had shot up to fifty-five. The sweat had sprung out all over Winston's body. The air tore into his lungs and issued again in deep groans which even by clenching his teeth he could not stop. O'Brien watched him, the four fingers still extended. He drew back the lever. This time the pain was only slightly eased. 
'How many fingers, Winston?' 
'Four.' 
The needle went up to sixty. 
'How many fingers, Winston?' 
'Four! Four! What else can I say? Four!' 
The needle must have risen again, but he did not look at it. The heavy, stern face and the four fingers filled his vision. The fingers stood up before his eyes like pillars, enormous, blurry, and seeming to vibrate, but unmistakably four. 
'How many fingers, Winston?' 
'Four! Stop it, stop it! How can you go on? Four! Four!' 
'How many fingers, Winston?' 
'Five! Five! Five!' 
'No, Winston, that is no use. You are lying. You still think there are four. How many fingers, please?' 
'Four! five! Four! Anything you like. Only stop it, stop the pain!' 
Abruptly he was sitting up with O'Brien's arm round his shoulders. He had perhaps lost consciousness for a few seconds. The bonds that had held his body down were loosened. He felt very cold, he was shaking uncontrollably, his teeth were chattering, the tears were rolling down his cheeks. For a moment he clung to O'Brien like a baby, curiously comforted by the heavy arm round his shoulders. He had the feeling that O'Brien was his protector, that the pain was something that came from outside, from some other source, and that it was O'Brien who would save him from it. 
'You are a slow learner, Winston,' said O'Brien gently. 
'How can I help it?' he blubbered. 'How can I help seeing what is in front of my eyes? Two and two are four.' 
'Sometimes, Winston. Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three. Sometimes they are all of them at once. You must try harder. It is not easy to become sane.'