~-^-~ Cloud City Cantina [Version 13.0]: One Flew Over the CCC Nest ~-^-~

Is it just me or does anyone else read evil when they see EVII?

 

It's just you.

 

awesome

 

you're not cool. you're just like everybody else.

 

...which makes me cool...

 

Wat!? dat's not cool. just ordinary.

 

Hi guys!

 

hiya, Zappy.

 

morning zap zapity

*edit I almost forgot to post this about my winter enthusiasm.

 

Frank and ben! How are you?
Btw that made me laugh really hard

 

I want that cat. And I'm not a cat person

 

Neither am I.. A cat person, that is.

Mostly because cat eyes freak me out.

 

I'm not a cat person. I'm an elephant man. But I like cats. I've had a few as pets.

 

Once again, the literal and the figurative butt heads.

 

you're a butthead

 

best poem ever.

 

how am I sposedta read that?

 

Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891) is one of the most prominent poets of 19th-centry France.
The following poem was published in his compilation Poésies (1891).
The poem, contrarily, was written in 1870 - the year of the
Franco-Prussian war. At this time he was residing near the France-Belgium border -
in the countryside. He saw the full cruelty and brutality of the war there.
Thus this poem came into being.

Translation
© Jarir Muhammad Fadlullah, 2003

The Sleeper of the Valley

In the womb of a country green, a stream sings,
Crouching madly through silvery rags of foliage—
Where the sun shines above the high and proud mountain:
The little valley basks in misty rays.

A young soldier, bare-headed, his mouth open,
And the nape of his neck bathing in the cool blue cresses,
Sleeps; under the sky he lies in his bed of green;
The evening sun weeps over his pale face.

Feet stretched in the yellow flowers, he sleeps.
As of a sick child, a smile lingers on his lips;
He is but taking a nap: Caress him warmly, Nature,
For he is cold.

The perfume no longer makes his nostrils quiver;
He sleeps under the Sun, his hand resting gently on his still chest.
Two holes mark its reddened side.


Note : The translation is not an actual word-by-word translation. I tried to capture the essence of the poem in English the best I can.
Please forgive me for any misinterpretations.
http://fadubroz.com/jarir/dormeur.htm

*edit a more literal translation
The Sleeper of the valley

It is a green hollow where a stream gurgles,​

Crazily catching silver rags of itself on the grasses ;​

Where the sun shines from the proud mountain :​

It is a little valley bubbling over with light.​

A young soldier, open-mouthed, bare-headed,​

With the nape of his neck bathed in cool blue cresses, ​

Sleeps; he is stretched out on the grass, under the sky,​

Pale on his green bed where the light falls like rain.​

His feet in the yellow flags, he lies sleeping. Smiling as ​

A sick child might smile, he is having a nap :​

Cradle him warmly, Nature: he is cold.​

No odour makes his nostrils quiver ;​

He sleeps in the sun, his hand on his breast​

At peace. There are two red holes in his right side.​

Although I must say that I am not completely satisfied with either of these translations and I'm too lazy to do a better job.

 

Hi everyone. Sorry I haven't been on. My computer has been acting up.

 

You don't have to apologize silly billy. These things happen, nothing you can do about it.

 

I see. But i've missed so much in the Senate and NGE.Thank you my friend.

 

It's... Dack !

 

Hello everybody! How is everybody???