Blogger is again banishing old comments to spam-limbo. I'll get them out! It seems Blogger is also once agan deleting random comments here and elsewhere ... that's worse.
First of all Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate.
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As I told some time ago, I love word games and puzzles like Wordle and such. For the first time today I solved the New York Times Connections puzzle, So I share the results from today's mini-games. Wørdle is the Danish Wordle look-alike.
Tiles - November 28, 2024 Perfect! Your highest combo was 41 moves.
Spelling Bee - November 28, 2024 *
Genius
148
Amazing
106
Great
84
Nice
53
43
Solid. . .
32
10 points to next rank, 105 to Genius
Good
17
Moving Up
11
Good Start
4
* Note for Spelling Bee, Solid is generally the highest you can go without subscribing. If you're smart, lucky, and the Bee contains fewer words, Nice is possible.
My brain has gone quite empty. I hope to make some writing happen later on.
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The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has
turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator;
and the Words are provided by a number of people. The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.
The
general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories,
subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your
creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please,
remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples'
stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this
one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need
encouragement.
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The Words for Wednesday are: Staple Symbolic Relic Ebony Flames and/or Moon General Drums Presto Thrilled
Den danske udgave blev udgivet otte minutter tidligere end denne, så gå til forrige indlæg nedenunder, hvis du vil have den.
To cry wolf is almost the same in Danish, we cry: The wolf is coming! But the English one is once again subject for misinterpretations, we only need a comma: Cry, Wolf!
Cry, wolf! Tonight the moon is full. You'll be hunted by werewolves and werebears and -boars.
And then I was reminded of Vargsången (The Wolf Song) written by Astrid Lindgren for the movie vesion of Ronia, the Robber's Daughter. It is a lullaby, sung by Ronia's mother - I always thought it was a bit violent for a lullaby, but then they are a band of robbers. I never saw the movie, but I have read the book more than once, and heard the song in the radio several times. I have not been able to find an English version, so I tried rendering it into English with it still being able to be sung on its original, haunting tune. You will be the judges as to whether I succeeded.
The wolf is howling in nightly woods, he wants to but can't be sleeping. Hunger tears in his wolven paunch, and cold it is in his keeping. Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here, I'll never give you my young one.
The wolf is howling in nightly woods, howls with hunger and anguish. But I'll give him a piggie's tail, It's fit for a wolfy stomach. Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here, I'll never give you my young one.
The wolf is howling in nightly woods, and finds no prey in his hunting. But I'll give him a cock's comb To put in his sorry bundle. Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here, I'll never give you my young one.
Sleep, my child, in your mother's bed, The wolf is howling, just let him. But I'll give him a chicken shank, That is if it has not been taken. Cry, wolf! cry, wolf, don't you come here, I'll never give you my young one.
Vargsången Vargen ylar i nattens skog, han vill men kan inte sova. Hungern river hans vargabuk, och det är kallt i hans stova. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Vargen ylar i nattens skog, ylar av hunger och klagan. Men jag ska ge'n en grisasvans, sånt passar i vargamagar. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Vargen ylar i nattens skog, och hittar sig inget byte. Men jag ska ge'n en tuppakam, att stoppa ner i sitt knyte. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Sov, mitt barn, i bädden hos mor, låt vargen yla i natten. Men jag ska ge'n en hönsaskank, om ingen annan har tatt 'en. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig. Astrid Lindgren
Youtube video of Vargsången the title says Astrid's Lullabies.
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Topics for December:
Dec. 2 Beans
Dec. 9 A Bumpy Ride
Dec. 16 Recipe for Disaster
Dec. 23 Never Say Never and/or Christmas/Hanukkah
Dec. 30 All Done
If you only read English, please wait a bit, the English version will publish soon.
Om kort tid kommer dagens Poetry Monday, som er en engelsk gendigtning af Vargsången fra Ronja Røverdatter. Jeg troede jeg havde udgivet min oversættelse af Astrid Lindgrens vuggevise her på bloggen, men lige megt, hvor meget jeg leder, er den her ikke. Så for ikke at gøre Poetry Monday-opslaget alt for langt, kommer den danske udgave her lige inden. Det har altid undret mig at Ulvesangen blev kaldt en vuggevise, men måske er forklaringen den enkle, at det er en vuggevise for røvere, og røvere skal hærdes fra små. Vi får den først på svensk og så på dansk.
Vargsången Vargen ylar i nattens skog, han vill men kan inte sova. Hungern river hans vargabuk, och det är kallt i hans stova. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Vargen ylar i nattens skog, ylar av hunger och klagan. Men jag ska ge'n en grisasvans, sånt passar i vargamagar. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Vargen ylar i nattens skog, och hittar sig inget byte. Men jag ska ge'n en tuppakam, att stoppa ner i sitt knyte. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig.
Sov, mitt barn, i bädden hos mor, låt vargen yla i natten. Men jag ska ge'n en hönsaskank, om ingen annan har tatt 'en. Du varg, du varg, kom inte hit, ungen min får du aldrig. Vargsången skrevs av Astrid Lindgren till filmen Ronja Rövardotter som kom 1984
Ulvesangen Ulven hyler i natmørk skov Han vil, men kan ikke sove Sulten river i ulvetarm, det er koldt nattens skove. Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her Ungen min får du aldrig
Ulven hyler i natmørk skov Hyler så sulten og mager men jeg vil gi ham en grisetå det passer i ulvemaver. Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her Ungen min får du aldrig
Ulven hyler i natmørk skov han finder intet bytte. Men jeg vil gi ham en hanekam at æde i sin hytte. Du ulv, du ulv kom ikke her Ungen min får du aldrig
Sov mit barn i moders seng Lad ulven hyle i natten Men jeg vil gi han et hønseskank, hvis ingen anden vil ha' den. Du ulv, du ulv kom blot ikke her Ungen min får du aldrig
Encouraged by Elephant's Child I sat myself down and wrote the last of the story. I am a stickler for happy endings, and this shows here. And as I used my colourOpal Pearl Green throughout this story I'll make it count for Colour24 as well
The magicians and apprentices sat around the table in the barn, all singed, smelling of smoke and damp clothing, but all very happy. The reason for the fires had not been a pyromaniac wizard or witch after all, Taavi told a long-winded story of one pyromaniac who ended up as a very good person, but nobody really listened. Suddenly Tage raised his head and blurted out: "How did Kalle end up here!" He looked at Taavi, who gave him a stink eye. "Oh, sorry Taavi, I did not mean to interrupt," he added, I was just thinking ..." "Or not," Taavi said. "Excuse accepted. And you pose a relevant question. Let's ask Kalle once again, what happened?" "Yes ..." Kalle began. "I was asleep, as well I should be, at home in my own bed in Stockholm. Then I remember dreaming of a giant, shimmering opal green crocolisk eating up someone I did not recognize, wrapped up like a giant spring roll or something. I was afraid. I wondered what to do. Then I felt an almighty pulling sensation ... and I awoke in the middle of the corridor, my PJs on fire and Gilvi dousing me with water." "You were afraid, and wondered what to do with a giant crocolisk!" Jon said slowly "... I think I know what happened." He looked at all the other magicians and apprentices at the table. "Now think. If you saw a humongous, shimmering green crocolisk - and a man-eating one even, what would you do?" "Run," Tage said. "Get mum and dad!" Heidi suggested. "I'd go to ..." Susan began, then gasped, "... to the library!" she ended softly. "Exactly!" Jon exclaimed, his white teeth showing in a big smile. "And that's what Kalle did. He sleep'ported here! Well done young man. You will probably have no trouble passing the teleportation test this term." Kalle smiled a huge smile. "Oh I've been so afraid of flunking that test. All my cousins except for Britta who's the youngest, passed the test last term, and they have been teasing Anna and me relentlessly ever since." "But I'll have to cast a spell on you to prevent repetitions. Just imagine you trying to slep'port to some imaginary place." Kalle turned white and whispered: "Oh yes, please do. Even some real life places would not be that nice."
