International Animal Noises How to translate “moo,” “oink,” “bzzz,” and so on into major world languages. Caution again, some of the translation pages have autoplay on the animal sounds.
In other news, I’m back on the writing bandwagon. (I have figured out how to bypass the evils of a laptop keyboard… plug in a full-sized one! I can write reclined with the board in my lap and still pivot and turn… an ergonomic design that I really work more comfortably with.) And my ear cleared again… waugh. by way of chewing lunch. Now, I have super hearing again.
It’s a shame I don’t see more of online.. I know she’s been having troubles linking up with LJ and such… I’d like to get what her interpretation of my reformed stabber dream was.
Thinking about the poetry of Azru Jehu, and it’s warming me, bringing me thoughts of pleasure and good memories. It’s funny, the chain reaction of thoughts that can take you from one point to another.
You know, I’m a fairly happy guy… (Why ‘e’s hardly gloomy, ‘e’s barely depressed, ‘e’s scarcely maudlin, ‘e is.) but I’ve always had a fascination for what’s on the other side of the curtain.
We met them at the gate though we usually wait inside. Preoccupied with their own thoughts, impatient, like so many children, they didn’t see who we really were. They never noticed our crowns, our pain, the fire in our eyes.
Like all others they think the house was made for them; actually, it is the other way around. They think we are poets who will lead them through the symbols and spaces of this underworld. They think we will teach them lessons. We are the lesson.
The monstrous walls rise up and run away as far as the human eye can see, circling and dividing. Which half is the Maze?
Even we get lost. It changes – sometimes slowly, imperceptibly…sometimes suddenly. This house is not only made of stone and mortar, wood and paint; it is made of time and mystery, hope and fear.
Construction never stops. We take some pride in our role as architects.
They think we will guide them to the center. Perhaps we will.