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Post by Alisdaire on Dec 31, 2003 20:57:25 GMT -5
Aye awa wae me I cannie be ither than I am an tha lang caul nicht but haunts whare by grief an woes I lay my heed Och it's no that I mind I should be used tae tha wickers fall fa far an wide this wee scunner brings but tha gift o a heavy hert. Fine, fine hae yeer wae see tha licht O distance call awa tae tha faded dreams e'er O truth tae whare me hert sae sorely fa's I cannie bridge tha deafened ear that hings sae weel tha twilights song tae lea me wonnering, devested an belittled tae a' that this wee Soul O mine hae crawed. I differ tha feelings, question tha richt O' a' passions meaning an tha blessed view Tis better awa, intae tha fading years O nothing I kennit fine, tha wee farely breath O wanten dreams That fades sae fast like tha melting snaw leaing ahind but exasperated imperfections O all yince I felt hung upon tha strands O being an made man rich tae tha treasures O life. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Jan 1, 2004 16:45:08 GMT -5
this is old english, no?
this piece will take a bit of decoding on my part.. i will reply later when i have a bit more free time.
.. very interesting, i must admit. i did not expect anything of this sort here. im happy that you posted it.
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