Evng-n-Paradse-art - 7/1/11
"An Evening in Paradise" by Master Rhodri.
This file is a collection of various messages having a common theme that I have collected from my reading of the various computer networks. Some messages date back to 1989, some may be as recent as yesterday.
This file is part of a collection of files called Stefan's Florilegium. These files are available on the Internet at: http://www.florilegium.org
I have done a limited amount of editing. Messages having to do with separate topics were sometimes split into different files and sometimes extraneous information was removed. For instance, the message IDs were removed to save space and remove clutter.
The comments made in these messages are not necessarily my viewpoints. I make no claims as to the accuracy of the information given by the individual authors.
Please respect the time and efforts of those who have written these messages. The copyright status of these messages is unclear at this time. If information is published from these messages, please give credit to the originator(s).
Mark S. Harris AKA: THLord Stefan li Rous
Stefan at florilegium.org
From: Rob Howell
Sent: Wednesday, June 22, 2011 7:07 AM
To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu
Subject: [CALONTIR] An Evening in Paradise
You know, sometimes life is really, really good to you.
So, there Duncan Eardstapa and I were, innocently (actually, we were innocent this time) strolling to the shower after a fun day of fighting at Lilies when we heard a voice.
"Your Lordship, Master Rhodri, may We have a word with you?"
"Why of course Your Majesties, we'd be honored."
So there we were, in our shower clothes, stinky from the fighting, ready for Their words. And what words they were.
"We'd like you to write us a Keeper of the Flame scroll text for Her Grace Maerwynn."
"Uh, how soon?" At this point, I'm wondering if we were actually going to get to shower.
Duncan and I looked at each other, both of us thinking that we didn't bring our Old English dictionaries and grammars and that this scroll text *had* to be in Old English.
"No problem, Your Majesties," we both replied, wondering how in the hell we were going to make this work.
Fortunately, this was one of those *rare* Lilies where Master Andrixos had talked a bunch of times, and in those few speeches, he mentioned that he had his laptop and that Clyde's in Paradise had WiFi.
So, we went to the shower, returned, confiscated Drix's car and computer and headed off to the wilds of Paradise. We got to Clyde's about 8pm, neither of us having eaten, but at least we were clean. However, they close at 9pm, so we ordered sandwiches from them and went to a little table outside of Clyde's and began the process.
Both of us had a bunch of cool ideas, many of which were scrapped as we pounded away at making something that was both worthwhile for Their Majesties and which made Maerwynn cry.
Writing poetry is always a challenge, and this was no different. Writing a poem in a different language is just a bit harder, even with wonderfully helpful internet sites, so this process was not a quick one. However, the first draft of the poem, in modern English, was essentially completed by 10:30, and the translation was starting to flow around 11:30 when about this time a car passed us and I realized that it was a police car.
Rut roh Raggy.
I proceeded to focus as much as I could on the translation. Duncan, with much more aplomb didn't really notice. However, with Xandre's example from the beginning of the war so fresh in my mind, I was extra special paranoid.
So, from 11:30pm to 12:30pm, the police officer sat in Clyde's parking lot. And from 11:30pm to 12:30pm we translated while I expected at any moment to hear his approach with something like: "What are you boys up to?" in his best Deliverance voice.
And I thought to myself, "You know, self, it is one thing to get arrested for failing to appear. That happens. The other people in the cell won't really think anything about that. However, getting arrested, while wearing a dress, for writing poetry. *That* my cellmates might note."
So, let's look at this. Life was really, really good to me because:
1: Maerwynn was recognized for her Keeperness
2: TRMs gave Duncan and I the opportunity to write the scroll
3: We came up with a scroll we were both proud of
4: We were not arrested for poetry with intent or aggravated writing or something like that
5: And I didn't have to model my dress for Bubba
In any case, we were indeed proud of the scroll, which I present here in both languages:
From king and queen come wise words
Fram cyninge ond cwene cymaþ cyneword
We say to Calon kin be of warm health
Caloncynn to willan wes þu hael
In Lilies high hall hear our heart-words
in lilian heah healle híeraþ heortword
These hammer warriors are wyrd-gifted
þās hamorwigan sindon wyrd-giefa
they float like feathers from falcon's wings
hie flotaþ swa feðer fram hafoca fiðerhamum
while they sink deep roots in hearth-soil
þenden hie ásencaþ deop-wyrt in heorþes earda
they cross embers with unarmored feet
hie stapaþ bælfýr mid unfierdsceorpum fotum
while holding hail from hearth-stones
þenden hie healdaþ mid heorþes stana
they fight against forgetting friends
hie ætfiehtaþ misgymynda freond
while they embrace foes of hearth-tales
þenden hie fæðmaþ feond fram heorþes ealdspellum
their eyes have seen story and song
hira eagan sawon giedd ond sang
their mouths have wielded weapons and wool
hira múðan wéoldon waepen ond wulle
their hands have worked whispers and wonders
hira handa geworhtedon runa ond wundor
their ears have studied stones and steel
hira earan sohtedon stanas ond stieleu
they are the huscarls of heartlands soul-house
hie sind huscarles of heortlanda sawol-husum
their mind-songs continue memories that burn
hira mod-sangas bídeaþ gemynda þat þe bærnen
brightly for bold people brilliant in their power
beorhte for módhéapum beorhtlic in hira ellene
Maerwynn of Holme is a holder of house-suns
Maerwynn holmes bith hold of huses heofengimmes
A keeper of flame steering falcon's fire
Se fyrweard forstíerende heah havocfyr
So says Anton king to Calon-people
Swa cwíðaþ Anton cyning to Caloncynnum
So says Isabeau queen to children of air
Swa cwíðaþ Isabeau cwen to lyftbearnum
So say the people-kings to kith and kin
Swa cwíðaþ þeodcyninga to cýþþum ond cynnum
In Lilies high hall, hear our heart-words
in lilian heah healle híeraþ heortword
Congratulations again, Maerwynn.