Thursday, July 21, 2011


Here's an old linguist's joke:
Beautiful Þrymr, wake unto me
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.
Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,
Lulled by the moonlight have all passed away.
Of course, Þrymr in Norse means 'uproar', and it is also the name of the king of the giants whom Thor slew in his quest to regain his hammer. For now, Thursday favours me, and I am happy for it.

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