Malt§έgj Project Part IV
I’ve gotten a bit caught up in Baraq lately, so i figured it would be a nice change to revisit malt§έgj for a bit. I figured a good start would be a translation, so here, from Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, “On Love:”
Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love." And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said: When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your heights and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. ... All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears... [abridged]
nos dyd ðac almítra, “mεn ðac jalc að ðblεucþ έloi.” e dyd bran pul ul talp mεs e dyd culóm ut ul ga§ág a, e dyd t§ơ§ am wára parþ ap. e dyd ðac pul am harέc bórga oc: lơ bad t§ơ§ ðblεucþ úla ðlai o§ mέlεm að, mεn grol§ pul it, mal lơ εc ac bweð pul u xa§ e tεlx. e lơ t§ơ§ ac fwi pul u úla ðlai o§ mέlεm εð, mεn gεlc mέlεm pul a, mal lơ dyd nag patáx ul styx huct mέlεm að, úla, rac stáfad calc pul u ac áro§ e.
Okay, i’m already exhausted from that. But i’ve made up quite a few new words, and possibly encountered some new grammar to talk about and rearrange and ponder, so i’ll be back later.