Category: Uncategorized

r u b a i
u b a i r
b a i r y
a and r y b
and r u b a

(sixth, last)

/ / / / / / / U / / U /

Ēr tundīh ī wāzān tō tagīg waxš nihuft,
Ēr kādag ī wad-wāž tō burāg wīr nihuft.
Pērāmōn ī tō sangīg tarāzūg gardēd —
Čē rāy āsn-stī ī tō az abārīg nihuft?

Verbatim:

Under the harshness of words you hid a strong spirit,
Under slanderous jokes you hid a clear mind.
Scales of stone turn around you -
Why did [you] hide your innate essence from others?

Poetic:

Behind the noise of harsh words you hid the fortress of the spirit
And he covered his clear mind with greasy jokes.
Scales of stone keep you all;
Why did you hide your essence from others?

r u b a i (penultimate, there are six of them)
at
b
A
and

U / U / / U / / / / U /

Agar dil-it dard kunēd, tō zāyam: ma griy.
Agar frawahr hušk šawēd, tārīg ast - ma griy.
Zi sad, hazār mard amāwandtar hē, e zan!
Fradom xwad-it, farroxīh wind - ud tō pas griy.

Verbatim:

If your heart hurts, I ask you: don't cry.
If your soul is dry and dark, don’t cry.
You are stronger than hundreds, thousands of husbands, wife.
First find yourself, find your destiny - and then cry.

Poetic:

If your heart hurts, I ask you: don’t cry.
If it’s burned inside, the soul is sleeping - don’t cry.
Hundreds, thousands of husbands, you are stronger, wife!
Be yourself, find yourself - and then cry.

I really love vegetables. Especially cucumbers - even when the season is over, I still buy at least half a kilo every week and just nibble on them during some meals.

That’s why yesterday at lunch a friend asked me, are there even vegan Gearts? At first I was somewhat taken aback, then I replied that it was very unlikely, and half a day later, for some reason, I thought about this question and decided to conduct a mini-research myself.

To be honest, at first I thought of it as something like feeding domestic dogs nothing but cabbage and carrots (spoiler: it doesn’t make them feel good at all). In the end it turned out similar, but not quite. Let's start with the fact that Gearts have a digestive system that is approximately the same as that of large cats (and let me remind you, they are real predators). In natural feeding behavior, we are more similar to bears: omnivores with some restrictions.

If we list the foods that are included in the human diet, then we do not eat a sufficiently large amount of them. Potatoes and corn, for example: starch is almost not digestible. Chocolate, onions and garlic are completely poisonous; many people have partial intolerance to grapes, raisins and the like. But the most important thing is that Gearts should not eat a lot of legumes.

Why am I focusing so much on this? Because in a vegan diet, legumes are the main source of protein. And you need a lot of it, because:

• Gearts, on average, have more developed muscles than humans, and they need to be supported by something;
• The average jeart is a carcass more than two meters tall and weighing more than a hundred kilograms. Well, you understand.

And I’m not even talking about animal fats and other such things!

Now let's move on to exceptions. There are some very specific diets based on cabbage, broccoli and pumpkin, and there are also gearts that follow them. You can really live on such food, but to do this you need to eat a head or two of cabbage and a whole pumpkin every day, and finish off the rest with broccoli; You can’t eat it in one or two meals, and because of this you have to split it into several meals, which is not good for the Geartian digestive system specifically (we eat two; maximum three times a day, but in large portions). In general, you yourself understand what quality of life will be with such a diet.

Therefore, if you are reading this and you are geart, do not torture yourself with vegan diets. If you don’t want meat, eat milk, fish, eggs; Veganism is unlikely to make you any better.

(but I will never, ever stop loving cucumbers)

Some news.

1. We have a channel in Telegram, come visit: t.me/soithasmarraidh
2. And the VK public: vk.com/soithasmarraidh
3. In the storage facility we are digging, we found another room, completely filled with stones mixed with earth. We are digging.

And while the trial is in progress, I'll tell you a little about a long-forgotten Glinar prose form. It's called feaolfhách in classical glinnarya, translated as "a lively word". It is usually a very short form that carries two (or more) ideas: one main one, and the rest are a subtext based on a play on words. For example, look at this.

“…then the boy cried out: “Wolves!” The people came and saw him there alone, became furious and strictly ordered him not to do it again. But time passed, and the boy cried out again: “Wolves!” Then the people came and saw him alone again – and became even more furious. For his vile deed they wanted to throw him into a deep ditch, but then the wolves arrived. They tore the people to pieces, and carried the boy into the forest, and from then on no one saw him again.”

At first glance it looks like a very shortened and reworked version of the fable about the boy and the wolves. Now look at the trick. "Cry wolf" in Glinarya looks like féidhrega, from féidh "wolf" and hrega "to scream heart-rendingly." But this word also means "to howl like a wolf," among other things. And the phrase "carried away into the forest" looks like …a oidhéraeth…nán ghailen, which can also be translated as "escorted into the forest."

So what do we have? A boy who howled like a wolf, and for some reason the rest of the people didn't like it - and they were about to kill him, but then the wolves intervened and saved the boy. Why is that? Because the story is about a werewolf who was very much disliked, as often happens, in his own tribe just because he was different from them.

There are much more interesting examples of this mini-genre, but they are also more complex, and to explain them you need to talk about a bunch of different realities. It's a bit sad that no one writes in it anymore - maybe someday this will change.

Now it will be a little sad again, but in a good way. Someone nameless describes the funeral of the Glinar elves, which he somehow managed to attend. Since then, the traditions have changed little, but nevertheless:

"Usually an elf senses the approach of his death long before, three or even four months. Then he hurries to finish his business; it is not customary to tell his relatives about it - they will hardly be able to prepare themselves in spirit, but they will definitely grieve until the funeral itself.

The elf writes a note in advance, asking to be buried one way or another. This is usually how it happens: either the body is carried on a boat to a wide and fast water and allowed to float, or it is carried to a clearing free of trees and burned. The Edevais then flows through other cities, so here in Sordava, they usually only burn.

When an elf dies, some sense it somehow. They do not hurry, but they do not linger; they do not wait for a number of days, or for dawn or dusk. They carry out the body, undress it and wash it; the hair, if it is long, is braided in a special way. Then they anoint the face and hands with incense and dress it in white clothes.

It’s really scary to watch as they go to bury a husband who looks very young.

And then everyone gathers around and carries the body on their shoulders and arms to the burial place. They don't cry or tear their hair out, but they don't have fun either - they sing. They sing a song so sad that my whole body trembled just hearing it - but I couldn't make out a single word. When I asked later, no one answered.

Then they put it on a high woodpile, doused with oil, and set it on fire. The ashes and remains of the bones, when they burn out, are carried far away from the city and left there.

I don't know how it is in other places, but here the Queen herself gathers everyone in her chambers and under them, and the whole city drinks and eats all day, and then the night - and then another day. They quietly remember the deceased and his life; sometimes they laugh quietly, and sometimes they cry quietly. Life almost stops for those eighteen months.

But then the tables are packed and the elves leave - and the whole city wakes up from its sleep again. They no longer grieve or mourn - at least not in the public eye. But I am sure they remember such things better than anything else."

r-u-b-a-i

The size here is simply amazing - every single foot is heavy. And I can guess why - most likely, to give the verse massiveness.

Zōrīg ud sēzdēn hē - čašm-it wārānīg ast.
Tō sturg ud taftīg hē, bē xandag tārīg ast.
Dard, drō, paččībāgīh ī rēman waxš-it škast,
Bē dušxwārīh mā bāš - dōstān-it nazdīk ast.

Literal translation:

You are strong and powerful - and your eyes are rainy.
You are hot and fiery, but your laughter is dark.
Pain, lies, vile hypocrisy have broken your spirit,
But don't be heavy-hearted - your friends are with you.

Poetic translation:

You are strong and powerful, but your face is gloomy;
And hot-tempered and hot-tempered, but your laughter is suppressed:
Pretense, pain and lies have broken the strong spirit -
But take the burden off your heart. Your friends are with you.