Thanks Mike and yes! There’s something very grounding about old english (and other older languages). No glamour, no fancy words, just chest beating and meaning.
The text doesn’t explain, it builds a field. The repetition of “Before evening has begun” isn’t decorative—it becomes rhythm, almost a collective breath. It doesn’t narrate an event; it prepares a threshold.
What works is the physicality of sound: chest, air, vibration, pressure. You feel it before you understand it. And precisely because it doesn’t aim for immediate meaning, it holds.
The final shift into “Mē līcaþ singen” opens the piece further, moving it outside ordinary time. Not as a reference, but as a deeper echo of the act itself.
Thank you for sharing @Soft Ground 💛
♥️♥️♥️
Thank you for sharing dear @Mirage!
My pleasure 😊
Thank you for sharing @TIBERIUS.
Pleasure 🙏
Thank you for sharing @Stefan Pasek!
Trying to share more of the stuff I read, as opposed to just a few. 😊
You’re the man!
Love the continental connection, the melding of root language into the back half if the poem. The flavor that adds grounds it in something earthy
Thanks Mike and yes! There’s something very grounding about old english (and other older languages). No glamour, no fancy words, just chest beating and meaning.
Exactly! Like a breathy chant, something primal, stripped bare of decoration and pretense there
Yep!
More chest beating.
More primal.
Less Netflix!
😂🤘🏻
Very enchanting, evocative and raw !!
Thank you @Aaliya! A bit of raw and even roar is nice sometimes! 🔥
I love how the words, rhythm, and language create such a deep, resonant, almost ritual-like tone and imagery. <3
Thank you Petra!! It landed just right then 😊
<3
I closed my eyes and re-read this. I felt every word passing through my lungs.
Thank you Christopher. That is just the feeling in the body I was hoping would come across!
Now I have to google things to read you - how did it come to this? Perfect metaphor, though x
Oohhhh. That’s a first MoTy! Thank you!
Interestingly (maybe), I just searched Goolge for Mē līcaþ singen and I’m the only person on google who’s said it!
Maybe if I put all my poems in old english, I’ll be top of google!
Yes! Wonderful! And that Saxon touch... 🫶🏼✒️
Thanks!
Something happens here.
The text doesn’t explain, it builds a field. The repetition of “Before evening has begun” isn’t decorative—it becomes rhythm, almost a collective breath. It doesn’t narrate an event; it prepares a threshold.
What works is the physicality of sound: chest, air, vibration, pressure. You feel it before you understand it. And precisely because it doesn’t aim for immediate meaning, it holds.
The final shift into “Mē līcaþ singen” opens the piece further, moving it outside ordinary time. Not as a reference, but as a deeper echo of the act itself.
It’s not perfect, but it’s internally consistent.
It doesn’t ask to be interpreted.
It asks to be passed through.
Thank you Antonio. A lovely reading of the poem.
Beautiful Mark, no words, just felt.
Thank you Be and perfect then 🥰