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Oron hamne palaresse
Hammarya oirasse,
Henduryat ilucenye,
Surierya ilumende.

Astar arcaner os occaryat,
Ve híni os herunta:
Auri nar inyoryar,
Nosseryo ná i ára.


The mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest everywhere.

The seasons prayed around his knees,
Like children round a sire:
Grandfather of the days is he,
Of dawn the ancestor.

Emily Dickinson

Firnen vanessen - er sinta lú
cainen noiresse
Ire i firne *anwien - né caitaina
Ento sambesse -

Milyave maquentes "Manen quellen"?
"Rá vanessen", *nanquenten -
"Ar ni - anwien - Inta er -
"Onóror namme" - quentes -

Sie, ve nossir, *omentanemme ló -
Quentemme imbe sambi -
Ter salque ractane peummannar
Ar ambatompe - essemmar -


I died for Beauty - but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room -

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied -
"And I - for Truth - Themself are One -
We Brethren, are", He said -

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night
We talked between the Rooms-
Until the Moss had reached our lips
and covered up - our names-