[NetBehaviour] hymn ty gyd my gyd yn my sycknyss

James Morris james at jwm-art.net
Wed Apr 4 18:46:22 CEST 2012


I didn't know you knew Welsh Alan!

James.



On Tue, 3 Apr 2012 05:09:06 -0400 (EDT)
Alan Sondheim <sondheim at panix.com> wrote:

> 
> =============
> 
> 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
> 
> =============
> 
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