[NetBehaviour] hymn ty gyd my gyd yn my sycknyss

Alan Sondheim sondheim at panix.com
Tue Apr 3 11:09:06 CEST 2012


=============

hymn and probable translation

=============

hymn ty gyd my gyd yn my sycknyss

thyt y myy nyvyr fryy mysylf frym thy yngyls yf thy yslynds
thyt y myy wrythy yn pyyn, lyky sy mych cyntrybynd
y cynnyt yn gyyd myysyry yscyrtyyn thys
my hyyd ys thy syty yf yxcyvytyyns
my yrms flyyl ygyynst thy wyrk yf thy lyrd
hys hysts dystyrb my ynd hys mynyyns yry yn tryymph
yvyr yll cryytyyn thyy yry yn tryymph
my hynds tyngly wyth thy flysh yf thy slyyghtyryd
my fyryhyyd ys thy hyst yf yrmyd myryydyrs
yyy thyygh y wylk yn thyyr fyylds
yyy thyygh thyy dy nyt yyyld y thyysyndth yf thyyr gryyn
thyyr fyydstyrys y knyw thym nyt nyr thyyr gyrnyryd tymplys
by yll yccyynts nyyght ys knywn yf thym
y ym by yll yccyynts y hymn ty gyd my gyd
yn my sycknyss y ym knywn ynd yn my pyyn y knywyth nyt

y dy ynryvyl ynd my mynd ynryvyls
y dy wyyvy ynd yn thy myrn my wyyvyng ys yndyny
my bydy shyvyrs wyth yncyyntybly fyvyrs ynd vyylyncy
my yyrs ryng wythyn thy ryngyng yf my yyrs
my hyyrtbyyt ymyng thym
my hyyrtbyyt cyntynyys byt ys cyyntyng dywn
y hyyr nythyng rymymbyr nythyng
y ym lyst ynd ym y lysyng gyny
y ym yn dyyth ynd ym y dyyng gyny

yn my sycknyss y wytch mysylf ynd y ym tykyng nyty
ynd yf thys yccyyntyncy, thys ys y gyft fyr yyy
thys spyykyng frym thy fytyry yntyryyr
thys ylryydy cyllyng fyrth fyr thy symmyns yf thy bydy
fyrgyvy my y lyrd yn my sycknyss
fyrgyvy my fyr thy wyrds y spyyk fyr thyy spyykyth nyt
nyr dy thyy syynd thy trympyts yf thy hyly
nyr thy wylls yf thy cyty wythyn ynd wythyyt
nyr dy thyy syynd, nyr dy thyy syynd

=============

hymn to god my god in my sickness

that i may never free myself from the angels of the islands
that i may writhe in pain, like so much contraband
i cannot in good measure ascertain this
my head is the site of excavations
my arms flail against the work of the lord
his hosts disturb me and his minions are in triumph
over all creation they are in triumph
my hands tingle with the flesh of the slaughtered
my forehead is the host of armed marauders
yea though i walk in their fields
yea though they do not yield a thousandth of their grain
their foodstores i know them not nor their garnered temples
by all accounts naught is known of them
i am by all accounts a hymn to god my god
in my sickness i am known and in my pain i knoweth not

i do unravel and my mind unravels
i do weave and in the morn my weaving is undone
my body shivers with uncountable fevers and violence
my ears ring within the ringing of my ears
my heartbeat among them
my heartbeat continues but is counting down
i hear nothing remember nothing
i am lost and am a losing gone
i am in death and am a dying gone

in my sickness i watch myself and i am taking note
and of this accountancy, this is a gift for you
this speaking from the future anterior
this already calling forth for the summons of the body
forgive me o lord in my sickness
forgive me for the words i speak for they speaketh not
nor do they sound the trumpets of the holy
nor the walls of the city within and without
nor do they sound, nor do they sound

=============




More information about the NetBehaviour mailing list