to my way of thinking oor Kornies
to my way of thinking
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To my way of thinking
Ass yw Tom koth!langbot langbot
to my way of thinking
A yll’ta neuvya?langbot langbot
I translated the foreword poem during the first lockdown, whilst furloughed and enjoying reading in the garden under the spring sunshine. I bought a hard copy of the book and escaped to an earlier time, this, in a way, being the theme of Heine's words. The foreword especially turned in my head. They made me think of walking in my favourite places on Bodmin Moor and Caradon Hill. The stanzas talked with my soul. In the same way as Heine, I wanted to be on the mountain, looking at the world extending ahead and dropping from my feet. The feeling of true freedom as the wind dances in my hair and against my skin.
Klav yw.langbot langbot
My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth The flood stream has washed the leper's footprints Who was carrying Iseult Your waters have seen the body of my King Arthur An borne him to the peace of Avalon My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth In the shelter of your banks foreigners fought Spaniards against Frenchmen But today our battle emblem is seen Which is now quietly at anchor My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth Where the river Allen mingled with The waters of the dirty River Kenwyn Our fathers built and formed a little town What would they think today? My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth Your tributaries are like an oak tree With branches stretching out To Ruan, Mylor, Grampound and Devoran But is your life running away? My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth Your channel brought and sent riches Tin, coal, merchandise and timber But the workplaces that gave life to the people Filled you, leaving men idle My bright river, my broad river Flowing incessantly to the sea My bright river, my broad river Cutting your way through the earth
Hemm yw an chi mayth yw ow ewnter trigys.langbot langbot
We didn’t wander far. I had decided to go to Union House, the centre of all student social activity on campus. That’s where we’d go to get food (‘The Caff’). That’s where we’d go to see student theatre (‘The Guild Theatre’) or the movies. That’s where all the student clubs had their meetings. It was the hub of student life. Surely, I thought, there would be survivors holed up there who might give me and David a warmer welcome than we could expect back at the Baillieu – a fairly stupid idea, as ideas went. From the Baillieu to the Union was a walk of, maybe, five minutes. I don’t think David knew where I was taking him – but he was content to walk along, holding my hand like a small child. That was okay by me. As long as we were together, the zombies we passed along the way paid me no mind at all. When we got within, say, one hundred metres of Union House, David suddenly became agitated. At first, he just grunted and made indistinct vocalisations. Then, he started twitching once again. He squeezed my hand hard and started bobbing his head up and down in a rhythmic fashion. Finally, he broke free of my grip and broke into a headlong sprint towards the building, roaring as he went. Was this another warning? I trailed along behind him. I could not afford to lose contact with him – he was my passport, my promise of safe conduct, within the kingdom of the zombies. (Did they have a kingdom yet? Or a king?) Near the South exit of Union House was a large eucalypt tree, encircled by a wooden bench seat. Between the seat and the tree trunk could be seen a small knot of zombies, kneeling and attending to something lying on the ground.
Tekka ov agesos sy.langbot langbot
47 While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived. With him was a large crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests and the elders of the people. 48 Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.” 49 Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. 50 Jesus replied, “Do what you came for, friend.”[d] Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. 51 With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear. 52 “Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. 53 Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? 54 But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?” 55 In that hour Jesus said to the crowd, “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. 56 But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples deserted him and fled.
Res yw dhis assaya!langbot langbot
I turned to the noisily-feasting David: “It’s a crap option, Dave. Any better ideas?” He uttered the words “gronff” and “nunff” (with a full mouth) but I don’t think it was by way of reply. It was nearing dawn. The train slowed on its approach to Castlemaine station. I dragged David away from the Major – or what was left of him – and slapped David’s bloody, gory face. This was not to express my disapproval, of course. This was merely to get his attention. I dragged him to the doorway of the baggage car. He roared in complaint and tried to return to the current object of his interest. I pulled him back and, placing my face very close to his, roared back: “We stay, and we die!” He looked longingly at what lay on the floor – but, at least, he understood. The immediate blood-lust was ebbing away and now he could hear me above the frenzy of his own ‘thoughts’ (whatever they were). He trusted me, it seemed, and would follow my directions despite his pressing urge to stay and finish his grisly undertaking. The train continued to brake and slow. When it got to a walking pace, we would make a leap for it – hopefully, before we reached the platform and the awkward questions that might await us there. I slid back the door of the baggage car just enough to allow us through. The train got to within a mere 50m of the platform before I judged it safe to jump. I was already grasping David’s slimy paw. We jumped together and landed hard, half on the bluestone ballast and half on the packed clay beside it. I was winded and in pain. I lay there for a few precious seconds, wondering if I had broken anything. David, meantime, was up and about – no sense, no feeling, I suppose. Though I was still in pain in several parts of my body, I could not afford to linger as I saw the train come to a halt in the station. The door of the baggage car was still open. Discovery was at hand. I crawled to my feet and again took David’s hand.
Yma ev ow redya.langbot langbot
8 sinne gevind in 7 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.