Yeah, I took a semester of it, hehe. That is one of the Anglo-Saxon riddles I have, wonder if I should post it in modern English so that Capulet can try to answer the riddle.
I tried Galic and Welsh translators on it (shouldn't have tried Welsh, too many vowels) and got snippets of translation, but nothing really workable. I had to google the first line to figure out it was Anglo-Saxon. Oh and by the way don't forget to vote for Mr. Saxon!
Oy! Wots dis grot sayin'! Ee toks like ee got squig fer brainz. Kwik chop o me chppa'll fix dat rite kwik. Den ee can go sees a Mad Dok an den ee be as good as noo.
LOL, here is what I am saying:
I am a wondrous creature, a joy to women,
useful to neighbors; not any citizens
do I injure, except my slayer.
Very high is my foundation. I stand in a bed,
hair underneath somewhere. Sometimes ventures
a fully beautiful churl's daughter,
licentious maid, that she grabs onto me,
rushes me to the redness, ravages my head,
fixes me in confinement. She soon feels
my meeting, she who forced me in,
the curly-haired woman. Wet is her eye.
I am a wondrous creature, a joy to women,
useful to neighbors; not any citizens
do I injure, except my slayer.
Very high is my foundation. I stand in a bed,
hair underneath somewhere. Sometimes ventures
a fully beautiful churl's daughter,
licentious maid, that she grabs onto me,
rushes me to the redness, ravages my head,
fixes me in confinement. She soon feels
my meeting, she who forced me in,
the curly-haired woman. Wet is her eye.
What am I?
Am I misreading this, cause the images I get out of this might better be on Playboy. Of course that might just be my sailor mind going out of control after two rows of Double Stuff Oreos,
Am I misreading this, cause the images I get out of this might better be on Playboy. Of course that might just be my sailor mind going out of control after two rows of Double Stuff Oreos,
No, you aren't misreading it, but the answer is not what you are thinking. Anglo-Saxons had a perverted sense of humor, and so most of their riddles were written with a duality to it, to purposely mislead from the actual answer.
No, you aren't misreading it, but the answer is not what you are thinking. Anglo-Saxons had a perverted sense of humor, and so most of their riddles were written with a duality to it, to purposely mislead from the actual answer.
I know!!!! I know this one!!!!
Went through a lot of Classic lit because the prof was CUTE!
I am a wondrous creature, a joy to women,
useful to neighbors; not any citizens
do I injure, except my slayer.
Very high is my foundation. I stand in a bed,
hair underneath somewhere. Sometimes ventures
a fully beautiful churl's daughter,
licentious maid, that she grabs onto me,
rushes me to the redness, ravages my head,
fixes me in confinement. She soon feels
my meeting, she who forced me in,
the curly-haired woman. Wet is her eye.
Doing the short answer:
It's an onion. A joy to women because they're in the kitchen. Doesn't injure anyone, except the person doing the cutting. Stands on a bed, hair underneath somewhere refers to being planted/growing in a bed of dirt, it's roots fanning out below. And then it describes the cooking and the final success--making her cry.
I have learned that something grows in the corner,
swells and expands, has a covering;
on that boneless thing a woman grasps
around with hands, with a garment
the lord's daughter covered the swollen thing.
This one is dough. You mix the ingredients together, and stick it in a cool, dark place to let it rise, covered. Then, when it is ready, you take it and knead it...being in the woman's grasp. After it has been kneaded and shaped, you wrap it in flour and cloth until it gets baked.
You don't visit Ten Forward. Ten Forward visits you. And then you have therapy.
Therapy? I have yet to see a psychiatrist who can fix the madness that results from being exposed to this place for even ten minutes! You people can make even the sanest, most normal person break down into a 40K-quoting, TV Tropes-linking, other language speaking pile of lunacy... And I love ya for it!
Therapy? I have yet to see a psychiatrist who can fix the madness that results from being exposed to this place for even ten minutes! You people can make even the sanest, most normal person break down into a 40K-quoting, TV Tropes-linking, other language speaking pile of lunacy... And I love ya for it!
Comments
Yeah, I took a semester of it, hehe. That is one of the Anglo-Saxon riddles I have, wonder if I should post it in modern English so that Capulet can try to answer the riddle.
LOL, here is what I am saying:
I am a wondrous creature, a joy to women,
useful to neighbors; not any citizens
do I injure, except my slayer.
Very high is my foundation. I stand in a bed,
hair underneath somewhere. Sometimes ventures
a fully beautiful churl's daughter,
licentious maid, that she grabs onto me,
rushes me to the redness, ravages my head,
fixes me in confinement. She soon feels
my meeting, she who forced me in,
the curly-haired woman. Wet is her eye.
What am I?
I'm missing how that's disturbing, but I won't argue with you, dear. :rolleyes:
Am I misreading this, cause the images I get out of this might better be on Playboy. Of course that might just be my sailor mind going out of control after two rows of Double Stuff Oreos,
No, you aren't misreading it, but the answer is not what you are thinking. Anglo-Saxons had a perverted sense of humor, and so most of their riddles were written with a duality to it, to purposely mislead from the actual answer.
I know!!!! I know this one!!!!
Went through a lot of Classic lit because the prof was CUTE!
lol, well, tell them the answer
And now, I must run off to German class. So, I will leave you with this one:
Ic on wincle gefr
its an Onion
EDIT: typo
useful to neighbors; not any citizens
do I injure, except my slayer.
Very high is my foundation. I stand in a bed,
hair underneath somewhere. Sometimes ventures
a fully beautiful churl's daughter,
licentious maid, that she grabs onto me,
rushes me to the redness, ravages my head,
fixes me in confinement. She soon feels
my meeting, she who forced me in,
the curly-haired woman. Wet is her eye.
Doing the short answer:
It's an onion. A joy to women because they're in the kitchen. Doesn't injure anyone, except the person doing the cutting. Stands on a bed, hair underneath somewhere refers to being planted/growing in a bed of dirt, it's roots fanning out below. And then it describes the cooking and the final success--making her cry.
In black text in my "I know what it is post" I posted that it was an onion too.
swells and expands, has a covering;
on that boneless thing a woman grasps
around with hands, with a garment
the lord's daughter covered the swollen thing.
This one is dough. You mix the ingredients together, and stick it in a cool, dark place to let it rise, covered. Then, when it is ready, you take it and knead it...being in the woman's grasp. After it has been kneaded and shaped, you wrap it in flour and cloth until it gets baked.
You don't visit Ten Forward. Ten Forward visits you. And then you have therapy.
Therapy? I have yet to see a psychiatrist who can fix the madness that results from being exposed to this place for even ten minutes! You people can make even the sanest, most normal person break down into a 40K-quoting, TV Tropes-linking, other language speaking pile of lunacy... And I love ya for it!
This movie will drive you insane in a even shorter time!
EDIT: For the safety of everyone, Heres the MST3K version insted. Abandon all hope ye who watch the non MST3K version!
Somewhere and nowhere
Spank you for dropping by, now that we have your soul feel free to come again. Next two visits are your mind and body
Just a fair warning, she doesn't mean 'your body' in the good, sexy way. She means it in the 'cut you apart and stuff you under the floorboards' way.
Thank you for bringing back the horror...
Wasnt that how a guy was killed in one Edgar Allen Poe's stories?
TRIBBLE, the word is out??!! have you read the story? mind walking with me a little while in the basement?
The Cask of Amontilato? (Probably misspelling the hell out of it...) No, he was buried alive behind a brick wall. Loved that book.
Or you could be talking about The Tell-Tale Heart. Poe loved his horrific death and dismemberment.
Me and about everyone in my high school class. I can keep a secret, but you might want to take my 12th grade teacher down there.