I had made oor Kornies
I had made
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With my right hand when I had made (him),
Nyns yw da gans Tom leth.langbot langbot
I had made
My a gar Sowsnek ynwedh.langbot langbot
When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o’clock—still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart,—for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.
Ple’th esos ta?langbot langbot
Radiance was with him, | Never had I greater fear, | By God who made me !
Yma ki du dhymm.langbot langbot
‘I do really wish to destroy it!’ cried Frodo. ‘Or, well, to have it destroyed. I am not made for perilous quests. I wish I had never seen the Ring! Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?’
Yth esa an howl ow splanna.langbot langbot
‘I wish I had waited for Gandalf,’ Frodo muttered. ‘But perhaps it would only have made matters worse.’
Yw res dhymm dybri gansa?langbot langbot
‘Well!’ said Frodo at last, sitting up and straightening his back, as if he had made a decision. ‘I can’t keep it dark any longer. I have got something to tell you all. But I don’t know quite how to begin.’
Yma va ow tybri aval.langbot langbot
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded—with what caution—with what foresight—with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it—oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly—very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously—oh, so cautiously—cautiously (for the hinges creaked)—I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights—every night just at midnight—but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
Nyns o res dhedhi gul an ober na.langbot langbot
‘What he had been doing he would not say. He only wept and called us cruel, with many a gollum in his throat; and when we pressed him he whined and cringed, and rubbed his long hands, licking his fingers as if they pained him, as if he remembered some old torture. But I am afraid there is no possible doubt: he had made his slow, sneaking way, step by step, mile by mile, south, down at last to the Land of Mordor.’
Ny ros hi dhymm tra vyth.langbot langbot
After overcoming my revulsion at David’s ghastly fashion statement – and before daylight failed completely – I noticed that David had acquired a further ‘garment’. I studied it carefully. It was an officer’s dress-jacket, completely drenched in blood, of course. The officer’s rank was plainly that of Captain – and there were little caduceus badges clipped to each epaulette. I couldn’t actually read the good doctor’s name badge – that had been somewhat obscured by sanguinous effluvia – but I was content with what I saw. Very content. Captain Doctor Mengele should not have made his ‘grunt’ driver walk back to the base, should he? I imagined the frenzied and bloody scene when, in the twilight, David had fallen upon the lone and unsuspecting medical officer. Ah, well, excrement occurs!
Ass os ta teg!langbot langbot
Nevertheless, I had to try. As I approached the pair, apparently locked in a deathly embrace, I yelled all sorts of threats and curses at my beloved brother. I can’t remember exactly what they were except that they were dire and foul. No response or acknowledgement was forthcoming from David, in any event. And, just as I expected that David would deliver the coup de grâce to the small man, an amazing thing occurred: David released his grip, stood up and walked away, making the same type of grunt he had made when I had, so recently, offered him an apple – utter disgust. The small man lay on the ground, passed out but physically unhurt. The door to the crypt opened a crack and a quavering voice croaked: “Are you okay, Charles?” “Charles”? Yes, of course, I knew this guy. His real name was Peter but he called himself ‘Charles’, as in Charles the first, beheaded king of England. He imagined himself as royalty – and even grew the royal goatee of the period. All his special friends bore the names of the royal court. Jude – you know, the one who, presumably, was still holed up in the Baillieu Library – was dubbed ‘Henrietta-Maria’ (Charles I’s wife) and, for what it was worth, Charles had dubbed me ‘Oliver Cromwell’. (I only realised much later that, coming from Charles I, this was a dire insult – since Cromwell had been responsible for Charles’ beheading. But, I’d not been at all fussed by this at the time of my ‘christening’). Charles, at that time, was the only openly gay friend that I had. He was very brave. At that time, male homosexual acts were still punishable in Victoria as felonies under the Crimes Act of 1958. (“The abominable crime of buggery”, as it was therein described – very strange, non-legal, language.). So, ‘to come out of the cupboard’ was not without serious risks in those days. The law was still routinely enforced against men such as Charles. So, who was ‘Paul’, still cowering in the crypt? That could wait. More to the point, why had David scorned a fresh meal of Charles? Were zombies homophobic? Surely not. Any meal of living flesh is a meal. Isn’t it? Who could be so picky? Besides, zombies seemed perfectly happy to devour either male or female flesh – but not, of course, the flesh of lawyers. So, why reject the flesh of a gay man?
Ny allav koska.langbot langbot
Christ said, "Since I made you follow me, ill-clad and barelegged, you have not carried any holder to put anything into. Nevertheless you do not know what need we had." "Lord, you have spoken the truth," they said among themselves.
Gevewgh dhymm, my a'gas pys.langbot langbot
The Angel and the Little Scroll 1Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven, wrapped in a cloud, with a rainbow over his head, and his face was like the sun, and his legs like pillars of fire. 2He had a little scroll open in his hand. And he set his right foot on the sea, and his left foot on the land, 3and called out with a loud voice, like a lion roaring. When he called out, the seven thunders sounded. 4And when the seven thunders had sounded, I was about to write, but I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said, and do not write it down.” 5And the angel whom I saw standing on the sea and on the land raised his right hand to heaven 6and swore by him who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and what is in it, the earth and what is in it, and the sea and what is in it, that there would be no more delay, 7but that in the days of the trumpet call to be sounded by the seventh angel, the mystery of God would be fulfilled, just as he announced to his servants the prophets. 8Then the voice that I had heard from heaven spoke to me again, saying, “Go, take the scroll that is open in the hand of the angel who is standing on the sea and on the land.” 9So I went to the angel and told him to give me the little scroll. And he said to me, “Take and eat it; it will make your stomach bitter, but in your mouth it will be sweet as honey.” 10And I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it. It was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it my stomach was made bitter. 11And I was told, “You must again prophesy about many peoples and nations and languages and kings.”
My a dhanvonas dhis lyther.langbot langbot
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
Pandr’a vyn’ta dhe wul?langbot langbot
The morning came, pale and clammy. Frodo woke up first, and found that a tree-root had made a hole in his back, and that his neck was stiff. ‘Walking for pleasure! Why didn’t I drive?’ he thought, as he usually did at the beginning of an expedition. ‘And all my beautiful feather beds are sold to the Sackville-Bagginses! These tree-roots would do them good.’ He stretched. ‘Wake up, hobbits!’ he cried. It’s a beautiful morning.’
Ny ros hi dhymm tra vyth.langbot langbot
2 CORINTHIANS 2 1So I made up my mind that I would not make another painful visit to you. 2For if I grieve you, who is left to make me glad but you whom I have grieved? 3I wrote as I did, so that when I came I would not be distressed by those who should have made me rejoice. I had confidence in all of you, that you would all share my joy. 4For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you. Forgiveness for the Offender 5If anyone has caused grief, he has not so much grieved me as he has grieved all of you to some extent—not to put it too severely. 6The punishment inflicted on him by the majority is sufficient. 7Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. 8I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him. 9Another reason I wrote you was to see if you would stand the test and be obedient in everything. 10Anyone you forgive, I also forgive. And what I have forgiven—if there was anything to forgive—I have forgiven in the sight of Christ for your sake, 11in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes. Ministers of the New Covenant 12Now when I went to Troas to preach the gospel of Christ and found that the Lord had opened a door for me, 13I still had no peace of mind, because I did not find my brother Titus there. So I said goodbye to them and went on to Macedonia. 14But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. 15For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. 16To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life. And who is equal to such a task? 17Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, as those sent from God.
Nyns yw da gensi oberi.langbot langbot
Two of my senses (sight and hearing) were temporarily knocked out but my sense of smell remained intact. That sense almost immediately was, in turn, overwhelmed by the pungent stench of gasoline-laden soot filling the air. Now the military was using napalm, or jellied gasoline, on us! The jet had screamed low over the zombie-filled oval and dumped a single bomb, filled with napalm. (I didn’t get to see the billowing, black mushroom cloud it must have made.) Many of the undead were destroyed instantly. Others, a bit further from the massive blast, were ablaze, running in all directions like so many ancient torches. Still others, even further away, had been splashed by the jellied petrol and suffered serious burns (and were still smouldering). Was it one of ours – a Mirage – or had the Yanks already arrived with F4 Phantoms? I wasn’t sure if a French-made Mirage could deliver a napalm weapon. Napalm wasn’t much favoured by the Aussies in Vietnam but I knew that a Phantom could do the job. This was, of course, an idle speculation on my part since I’d seen precious little of the plane that had stooped out of the night sky and delivered ‘Hell-in-a-Tincan’ to us. It might as well have been a Tiger Moth or a Spitfire. I’d seen this sort of thing on newsreels from the Vietnam War. I confess that I had been more upset by the incineration of living men, women and children – mostly civilians – than by the horror that was now unfolding before me. Still, the high-pitched wailing of hundreds of incandescent zombies is something I’m unlikely ever to forget. Sight and hearing came back to me by degrees. The afterimage of the flash and the loud ringing in my ears were persistent. However, I soon had enough senses about me to continue to put ‘Plan B’ into effect. Poor Meryl had been a resident of St. Hilda’s college. She and a friend had shown me around the place – and generously invited me to partake of the college dinner with them. (Little wonder, now that I think about it, that I naively thought she might be romantically interested in me. But, no, she was just a nice, country girl being friendly.)
Da yw genev an ki ma.langbot langbot
‘But at the western edge of Mirkwood the trail turned away. It wandered off southwards and passed out of the Wood-elves’ ken, and was lost. And then I made a great mistake. Yes, Frodo, and not the first; though I fear it may prove the worst. I let the matter be. I let him go; for I had much else to think of at that time, and I still trusted the lore of Saruman.
Res vydh dhyn gul neppyth.langbot langbot
I saw it in the Sunday Times so I know it must be true I saw it in the Telegraph and the Observer had one too Advertisements for pasties, the finest you can buy Made by Tesco's far away in England, 'tis no lie Oh, me lads! You ought to see the pasties Two inches long in a plastic bag and the insides full of nasties Carrots and peas and kittikat, all jumbled in a mess Oh and a packet of Rennies that comes quite free with the compliments of Tesco's So early Monday morning, I set off for the town Tesco's supermarket in Pydar Street is found They lent to me a trolley with four wheels and made of tin How big then could this pasty be? I thought me luck was in Oh, me lads! You ought to see the pasties Two inches long in a plastic bag and the insides full of nasties Carrots and peas and kittikat, all jumbled in a mess Oh and a packet of Rennies that comes quite free with the compliments of Tesco's I looked all up and down the shelves all piled with tins so high I searched among the cheese and ham, the bread, the veg, the pies I searched among the underwear, even opened doors and hatches Then at last I found one hid behind a box of matches Oh, me lads! You ought to see the pasties Two inches long in a plastic bag and the insides full of nasties Carrots and peas and kittikat, all jumbled in a mess Oh and a packet of Rennies that comes quite free with the compliments of Tesco's I felt so sorry for the thing, all pale and all alone Says I, "Perhaps you'll grow a bit if I does take you home" I went up to the cash desk and then I turned quite cold It cost me 36 new pence, the bugger's made of gold Oh, me lads! You ought to see the pasties Two inches long in a plastic bag and the insides full of nasties Carrots and peas and kittikat, all jumbled in a mess Oh and a packet of Rennies that comes quite free with the compliments of Tesco's I put it in me pocket and homeward made me way That's when me troubles started, for a fine I had to pay The pasty fell from out a hole and on the floor it splayed They fined me twenty pound, you know, for fouling the highway Oh, me lads! You ought to see the pasties Two inches long in a plastic bag and the insides full of nasties Carrots and peas and kittikat, all jumbled in a mess Oh and a packet of Rennies that comes quite free with the compliments of Tesco's
Hi yw pymp bloodh.langbot langbot
Siege at the Baillieu “He’s gotta go, Pete. You know it – and I know it.” Jude’s voice was firm. Any sympathy she had for me had been put to one side. She continued: “Dave’s a guy. When he gets bitten, there’s no way back.” She was right, of course. Dave would die – and soon. It was a matter of a few hours at best. They would cast his body out. He’d join the other guys, the ones who’d gone before. “He’s not gonna go,” I said with quiet determination. “But, Pete, you know the score. He can’t stay here. Once he’s dead, he’s a threat. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” “He’ll be no threat to me. No. Not to me,” I said, without fully believing my own words. I could not see my brother, my twin brother, slung outside the library doors, like some animal carcase. I could not see him simply exist amongst them, amongst those we had already cast aside over the last week – and the ones who had made them like they were. No. He was not “gonna go”. Nor would I destroy him – or see him destroyed. These were not options. He would stay with me, with us. Jude stood and sighed. She would talk to me again no doubt – within an hour or two – before Dave actually died. In the meantime, she left me to sit beside my dying brother. At least he was now unconscious, no longer suffering. Beads of sweat still clung to his forehead. He was pale, feverish, unmoving – except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. When his breathing ceased altogether, I knew what would happen – and happen very quickly. I’d seen it happen a dozen or more times in the last week – to other guys. Always the guys, never the girls. Not so far, anyway.
Yth esov owth eva leth.langbot langbot
THE ROWDEN WHITE GALLERY Perhaps the entry of the truck – and/or the resulting crashes and bangs – had been heard. And perhaps the person hearing this had decided “It’s now or never” – and had made a desperate dash for freedom. I will never be quite sure. In any event, as I trailed along behind David towards Union House, a scream split the air – the scream of a living person. David halted briefly to assess the sound – and sniff the air. Then came another scream and David was off at a gallop. The screams seemed to come from Union House and, naturally, that was the direction in which David was running. I tried to keep up with him but he already had a head-start on me. As we entered the building via the South entrance (the Western entrance did not exist at the time) the screams stopped abruptly – in mid-scream. David’s pace did not slacken – if anything, it quickened and I fell further behind. I saw him leaping up the stairs, taking three at a time – the basement was now ignored and a crowd of zombies was coming forth from that evil pit. David, however, was ahead of that pack and, for my own safety, I needed to keep in contact with him – a feat which I just barely managed. David’s bloodlust was definitely up and all thoughts of protecting me seemed to have disappeared. Fortunately for me, the zombies following David were likewise distracted – for the moment at least – and paid me little heed. By the time I reached the Rowden White Gallery cum library on the third floor of the building, it was all over. The person who had been screaming so desperately had been killed by the zombies. I don’t think David arrived in time to participate in the actual killing – though I can’t be sure – but he was certainly participating in what followed.
Mr Smith yw dyskador da.langbot langbot
27So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. 28And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. 29And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat. 30And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for meat: and it was so. 31And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
Tomm a’n gwelas.langbot langbot
In the distance, I could hear dogs barking. This did not overly trouble me because these dogs would have been just the normal guard dogs at the base. There had not been time to get any bloodhounds up from Melbourne yet. So, unless David or I were stupid enough to make ourselves highly scent-visible, the guard dogs would not find our hide-out before we had moved on. Even so, I knew that I now needed to stay put. Wandering about in the bush at night was likely to attract the attention of any sort of dog. David would just have to fend for himself. I spent an anxious night lying awake on the cold, earthen floor, deep within the tunnel complex, waiting and wondering – just like parents do when their teenagers start going out at night without them. (Though David was hardly a typical teenager.) Morning came – still no David in sight. “Where have you gotten to, ya little flesh-eating bastard?” I said aloud. I waited till mid-day once again before I could no longer stand the anxiety and suspense. I crept towards the mouth of the tunnel and, after listening for a time, ventured a peek out of the entrance. Nothing. There was no sign that the searchers had passed by. That was a relief, of sorts. I waited a further time – an hour or two maybe – and listened. It was a very still, summer’s day. Not even the familiar sound of eucalypt leaves rustling in the breeze. In the bush, in those conditions, any loud sound will carry for miles. If there had been any trucks rumbling along the Scrub Hill road, I would have heard them. If there had been any dogs still searching, I would have heard their barking. There were none. So, what did this mean? Perhaps the search had moved on elsewhere. Perhaps it had been suspended until proper tracker dogs had arrived from Melbourne. Or, more likely, there were now troops stationed in bush ‘hides’, just watching and waiting until I emerged somewhere in the area. They probably had orders to shoot on sight because, after all, this was being treated as a wartime operation. I couldn’t take the risk of emerging just yet. That would have made no sense. I was comparatively safe where I was – for the moment. David would have to fend for himself (unless, as I worried, he had already been picked off by some sniper hiding in the bush – though I had heard no gunfire at all.)
Fatla genes hedhyw?langbot langbot
“Certainly, Sir,” I stammered. “But our comrade is in particularly bad shape and I ...” “Sergeant, I have seen action in Korea, during the ‘Malayan Emergency’ and in ‘Nam as well. How many broken and dismembered human beings do you think I’ve seen during that service?” The question was patronising – but he did have a point. I didn’t answer. I was running out of ideas. “Open the box, Sergeant! That is a direct order!” I commenced, slowly and with feigned difficulty, to unscrew the fastenings that held down the lid. Could I delay the process until we reached the next stop? Maybe – but probably not. The Major became impatient with my progress and started to bellow at me – just as he had at the private who had carried his luggage. David was picking up on this aggravation, of course. Firstly, he could hear the angry words being directed at me and, secondly, I’m sure he could empathetically sense my growing anxiety and fear. After several long minutes, I started unscrewing the final fastening. The Major roughly pushed me aside with a curse and completed the task himself. “This is not going to be pretty,” I thought. But what could I do? As the Major commenced to lift the lid, a grey arm clad in military fatigues shot through the gap between lid and box. David’s hand closed swiftly and securely around the Major’s windpipe – and, quietly but efficiently, crushed it. David had made his first kill in the flickering of an eyelid. I knew better than to try and intervene now – there would have been no purpose. The Major’s limp body slumped to the floor of the carriage and David freed himself from the coffin. David fell upon his prey and feasted. Soon, the floor of the carriage was swimming in blood. David’s busily gnawing face was buried deeply on the flesh of his victim, as seemed to be customary among zombies. So much for getting him cleaned up. So much for fresh clothing. Was this a good time simply to cut my brother adrift? Yes, probably, on any rational consideration of the circumstances.
Hi a vynna metya orthiv.langbot langbot
The driver of the second jeep had apparently understood what the Sergeant had meant by ‘see you later’ (what a clever guy, cleverer than me, at least). He parked his vehicle outside the disused exit of the building. (The jeep I had come in remained at the front of the building, still under the surveillance of two guards. They remained quite unaware of the escape.) The second driver got out of his jeep upon seeing us emerge from the rear of the building and saluted the Sergeant. The Sergeant climbed behind the wheel of the vehicle and David and I followed. I made David ride in the back this time – that tray was hard and cramped. I’d felt every bump on our short ride to the prison and I did not want to be in the tray for any extended journey. But David was okay – after all, he was just a zombie! (Yes, even brotherly love has its limits.) Ingrid stood beside the second driver, to one side of the vehicle. I fancy that she waved as we sped off with the Sergeant – but I never saw her again. I did wonder what became of her later – in view of her obvious involvement in my and David’s escape. Would she have faced a court martial for assisting the enemy on time of war? No, I don’t think so. I have a feeling that the Army hierarchy would have let the whole thing drop or simply have covered it up – once they realised the monstrous things that they had allowed the Captain to perpetrate on an innocent civilian. (Me.) It’s just not easy to laugh off a meticulously planned murder – which had only failed though the timely intervention of Ingrid. And there were plenty of clinical records to back up Ingrid’s story – as well as multiple witnesses at the Infirmary to verify what had occurred to me. And, as for the Captain himself, well ... So, I think, in the long run, Ingrid would have been okay. “Where to, soldier?” asked the Sergeant. (I still liked being called ‘soldier’. It made me feel respected.) “Do you know the Scrub Hill area of this base?” I asked. “I sure do,” he replied. “I had my guys training there only last week.”
Res o dhymm assaya neppyth.langbot langbot
63 sinne gevind in 15 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.