Category: Uncategorized

We just thought that we haven’t had any interesting documents for a long time - so here we go. A certain song in Proto-Digitian, apparently; but that’s not the point. Its text is maddeningly reminiscent of modern Duat An Hini A Garan (“The One I Love”) and fits perfectly with her own rhythm. Here is the text of our find (in the spelling I came up with on my knee):

O hennọ carwydho, cynti bychi trėvi,
Pan oydhemm oncwsson, ad ėnni gilydhi.
Men calonọ cėrėd, cėrėd onid unọn;
Pan oydhenne bychoh, 'n trėvi garwydho hennọh.

O hennọn carwydho colltw-mi wor vython,
Maghew aythydh pellon, a ne dhowhwlọd edwon.
A sylli: canw-mi, canw heb-diwėdhi,
A sylli: canw-mi, di garwydho hėnni.

O hennọ carwydho un-didhi me leyssydh,
Ayth di vrœghym pellam, brœghyn ne gonwynnwydh.
Ayth di vrœghym pellam, di arwraghon varon.
Un-didhi hi colltw-mi, carwydho hennọn.

Translation:

Oh, the one I love, before, little ones, at home,
When we were close to each other.
My heart loves, loves only one;
When I was little, in the house of the one I love.

Oh, the one I love, I lost forever,
It so happened that she went far away and would never return.
Look, I’m singing, I’m singing endlessly,
Look, I'm singing to the one I love.

Oh, the one I love, you left me one day
Gone to distant lands, a land I don’t know.
She went to distant lands to earn bread.
One day I lost her, the one I love.

And finally: two of my favorite performances of this very An Hini A Garan — plus, I tried to sing the first verse of our find. The quality is so-so, sorry =D

I had a very difficult day today, so keep it simple for now with my attempts at calligraphy. This is all the same rubai, but here is its Roman transcription (classical Novostur vocalism) and translation:

har sabza ki bar-kanār-i jōy-ī rusta ast
gōyī, zi lab-i firišta-xway-ī rusta ast
pā bar sar-i sabza tā ba xwārī nanihī
k-ān zi xāk-i lāla rōy-ī rusta ast

The grass with which - look! - bordered
The ripples of a ringing stream are fragrant and gentle.
Don't trample her with contempt: perhaps
From the ashes of angelic beauty she arose.

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Cow fast.

I think you all know very well that in Tivia the cow is a sacred animal. This applies not only to them, but to the region as a whole: in Mazdaism, a cow/bull is also considered a very good and kind animal. Why is that? The answer is very simple: the cow gives milk. She is considered the voluntary nurse of the human race, and cow symbolism is ubiquitous throughout the Avesta.

Now let's switch to slightly abstract things. I once lived like this Gaumata, according to the official version, inscribed by Cyrus the Great on the Kamenyuk, is a magician (or priest), a Stoor liar, posing as Cambyses, the murdered younger brother of the ruling Bardiya at that time, who had just gone on a campaign. He organized a fairly large coup, took the throne himself, and ruled until Cyrus drove him out of there with pissing rags.

The official version has both supporters and opponents; the latter say that all this is lies and Gaumata was not a magician, but a real Cambyses - and Cyrus the Great is just a usurper. This version is considered partly marginal, primarily because the Bisutun inscription was carved at the very beginning of the reign of Cyrus himself, and even in three languages - it would be strange to commit such an outright lie when you have a whole country of eyewitnesses around you.

I will not say who is right and who is wrong, but I will draw your attention to one specific thing. Proponents of the theory that Gaumata was Cambyses generally argue that “Gaumata” is a nickname invented by Cyrus and the conspirators. And I categorically disagree with this.

Gaumāta (Old-Art. 𐎥𐎢𐎶𐎠𐎫) translated from ancient Turk as “mother cow” (gau-māta). Names with the element “cow” were quite rare, and in general were intended to testify to the piety of the wearer. Parallels can be traced in Tivyan names: there is, for example, the Vedic sage Manarishi Gautama, and there is a VERY major historical figure Siddhartha Gautama - I think he needs no introduction. In general, the trend is visible: usually positive characters bear cow names; It would be strange for Kira and his friends to call the usurper magician such a beautiful name.

The conclusion is: respect cows, drink milk. Amen.

Shooting post.

Bows are different. Straight, block, recursive - but in addition to all this, sometimes you can notice very unusual designs that at first glance look like they are beautiful, but in fact it is not entirely clear whether they work.

One such bow design variation is the double shoulder bow, which I've seen in a number of games. Such a thing immediately caused natural skepticism in me, and I got into the network to understand whether it was possible to shoot from such a thing and whether it was necessary at all.

It turned out that quite yes! This design with different variations is used by some Indian peoples, and not only them. People claim that for the same amount of force, this helps stabilize the flight of the arrow and increase the range by 10-15% compared to a conventional recurve bow. Well, let's believe them!

Here is a video with a man who himself riveted a similar (and very working) bow:

Well, the photos below: the usual Penobscot bow (Penobscot bow), then its more beautiful variation from some online store, well, guess the last one yourself =D

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Now I, dear friends, will tell you how difficult it is to live with a clogged sewer.

Last night there were no signs of trouble: a hurricane wind blew calmly and poured rain all around, the trees swayed back and forth, and in general it was very pleasant not to leave the house. In between the rain squalls, I decided to go out to stretch my legs a little and suddenly heard a suspicious noise coming from the boiler room (the ventilation window was open). Berenice had just finished washing, I waited for her, and we decided to see what was happening there.

The end of the world took place there. It was all filled with water. Just EVERYTHING - and it was not even clear where it came from. But then one of our guys upstairs opened the tap, and we were able to see with our own eyes the miracle of the flow of sewer water.

I won’t draw a sewer diagram, of course; I’ll explain briefly: at the very bottom of the pipe, already behind the house, a blockage formed, because there was water in it - and as soon as the column exceeded a certain level, it began to flow out of the adjacent pipe located in the boiler room. Then began the rags, buckets, even more rags and the discharge of natural needs exclusively on the street.

This morning the repairman came and cleared the blockage - and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Comforts in the home, after all, are a great thing.