An Old English Poem

Seems like all I have time for these days is posting interesting school assignments... This one is an original poem translated, to the best of my abilities, into Old English. Of course, Old English is so different from Modern English that I have no idea what the translation of my poem really says. I have no clue if the grammar is correct, if I conjugated the verbs in the right way, or anything like that. The only online places I could find for translating Modern English into Old English would only translate one word at a time, so I couldn't input a block of text, e.g. my poem, and have it translate that. I could only put in one word and translate that, and then figure out if I needed strong or weak, masculine or feminine, singular or plural, etc. etc. etc. So it was a bit more difficult than I imagined. But here it is! Enjoy! :-]

(Addendum: I inserted a 'bridge' of sorts for the benefit of a friend, who wants to try and turn it into a song. It has not been translated.)
(Another Addendum: Here is the finished song, as sung and played by Devin Dennis. ^^, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oN77edbcRY )

“Treachery/Love”

Sarah Kittell – 09/22/10

Sunny day and shades of gray,

Searching for the words to say,

Inside my head, the things I said

Are chasing all my thoughts away.

I waited for the slamming door

To shake me to my very core,

For shouted knives and broken lives

To leave me crying on the floor.

But you walked in, ignored my sin,

Brushed my tears off with a grin,

Closed your eyes and kissed the lies

Still warm from kissing foreign skin.

Bridge:
The heart has its reasons that reason can’t see,
You had every right to get up and leave,
And yet here you are and here you will stay,
The angel I love and the man I betrayed.

“Belæwung/Bróðorlufu”

Sarah Kittell – 09/22/10

Sigelbeorht dæg ond heolstorsceadwas sylfum deorcegræg,

Árásaende for þá cwideas æt ácwiðean,

Innoþ min héafod, þá þing ic geácweden

Béon ádrífende á min bréosthord áflíegung.

Ic geábiden for þæt bedende dor

Æt ábifan mec æt min midde,

For gecealled cnífas ond geábrocen æ

Æt anforlæteeþ mec blægettende on séo flór.

Ac ðu gegangen beinnan, geforgiefen min bealudæd,

Aswápan þá hléordropan on min andwlita,

Gebehliden úre angnereas ond gecossed þá léasspell

Þágíet wirman fram cossende wéales scinnen.

An Autobiography

Well, I have another school assignment to share. I had to write an autobiography. And here it is. Enjoy!

Two ‘T’s and Two ‘L’s:

The (Abridged) Autobiography of Sarah Kittell

                Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell. – C. T. Studd

                At seventeen and a half years of age, it is practically impossible to write a comprehensive autobiographical account of one’s life. This is due in part to one’s generally not having lived quite long enough to have accomplished anything worth writing about—unless one is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, in which case such a tome would most likely be far over-due by the age of 13. But I am not Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and as such, I do not have much to say on the subject of my life. Therefore, what little I do have to say, I will attempt to say in such a manner as to be entertaining and, hopefully, somewhat comedic.

Inspiration

     I started school up about a month ago, hence the lack of recent blog posts. I really did mean to post something shortly after the beginning of the school year, but... Obviously, that didn't happen. So here I am, with a new blog post, 2 days into September and already a month into my final year of high school.
     In sharp contrast to last year at MAP, this year I am thoroughly enjoying my school work, classes, teachers, etc. These are my classes, for those who are interested: Honors British Literature, Language Arts, Honors European History, Rhetoric, Geometry, Portfolio, Spanish II, and Anatomy & Physiology. British Lit., L.A., and A&P are probably my favorite so far, but other than Portfolio, which is a whole lot of work for a very short class that I won't get much credit for, I'm really loving all my classes right now. I'm reading Beowulf for British Lit., I have a coloring book for Anatomy & Physiology, I'm writing a play for Language Arts, reading C. S. Lewis for Rhetoric... It's pretty much awesome. :-]

     Also, I have a little something to make up for the blog post dry spell! Last week's L.A. assignment was to keep a journal for five days on paper bags, using whatever was inside each bag for inspiration. I did. And fueled by my desire to turn absolutely everything possible into an art project, I present to you my Paper Bag Journals. :-D

Day 1 - Inspiration: A birthday candle and a yellow foam animal capsule.

08/26/10

     I got one of those little plastic capsules today; the kind you dissolve in water and then the little foam animal swells up from the water. I've never tried it before, and I must say, I was somewhat disappointed in the results. I think it's supposed to be a sheep, but I'm really not sure. Perhaps a cow?

     On a different note, I've gotten over my eye infection and can once again see properly. Yay! Also, I've been helping Jessi out with her Chemistry homework, which isn't actually as bad as I thought it would be, considering how much I hated it last year.

     I really want a typewriter. I've found a few on eBay that I particularly like, but as I know next to nothing about antique typewriters, I'm not sure about making a purchase. Hopefully, I'll be able to get enough information to buy a working, 1960s or older typewriter, and relatively soon.

Words.

More words.

S  p  r  e  a  d  i  n  g

from one to the next.

Disregarding

TRUTH. FICTION. WISDOM.

Fly------------------------------------------------------>like birds.

whispered, SHOUTED,

gone.

OuT oF 

cOnTrOl.

From loose matches to blazing

forest. Passive aggression.

                    Where's the water?

gone.