105 lines
3.2 KiB
HTML
Executable file
105 lines
3.2 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<html>
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<head>
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<title>Hagalaz</title>
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<link href="./style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" title="main" media="all">
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
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<link rel="icon" href="../img/runes/hagalaz.svg">
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</head>
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<body>
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<p class="center"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Runic_letter_haglaz_variant.svg"><img src="../img/runes/hagalaz.svg" alt="Hagalaz rune" title="Hagalaz rune"></a></p>
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<h1>Hagalaz</h1>
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<p>Traditional meaning: hail</p>
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<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>the Eschaton</li>
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<li>deep roots of Yewiffe</li>
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<li>repressed memories</li>
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<li>winter/darkness/silence</li>
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<li>water</li>
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<li>creative destruction</li>
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<li>upcoming crisis/trauma</li>
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<li>good outcomes from forced change</li>
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<li>mystic/magician/priest</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Meanings when inverted:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>sky-scraping branches of Yewiffe</li>
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<li>a bright sunny future</li>
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<li>stagnation</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Hagalaz can be useful for:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>shadow work</li>
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<li>absorbing negative energy</li>
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<li>connecting with the dead</li>
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<li>sifting through the past</li>
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<li>creating disruptions</li>
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</ul>
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<hr>
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<p>Anglo-Saxon rune poem:</p>
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<blockquote>Hægl byþ hwitust corna;<br>hwyrft hit of heofones lyfte,<br>wealcaþ hit windes scura;<br>weorþeþ hit to wætere syððan.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>
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Hail is the whitest of grain;<br>it is whirled from the vault of heaven<br>and is tossed about by gusts of wind<br>and then it melts into water.</blockquote>
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<p>Norwegian rune poem:</p>
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<blockquote>Hagall er kaldastr korna;<br>Kristr skóp hæimenn forna.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>Hail is the coldest of grain;<br>Christ created the world of old.</blockquote>
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<p>A modern poem:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Blow the ashes in their eyes,<br/>
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the gentle breath they do despise.<br/>
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The hail comes down, delivered by the wind<br/>
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you said was my wealth, my dividend.</p>
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<p>I cannot help who I am,<br/>
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or what I have become.<br/>
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And who I have turned into<br/>
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is a gleaming no one,<br/>
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nobody at all.</p>
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<p>You told me<br/>
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we were<br/>
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<strong>stagnating</strong>.</p>
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<p>Self-baptismal in just-thawed lake<br/>
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I had just enough strength to break<br/>
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the surface of, watch the ice shatter<br/>
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like that which gave birth to you: the mirror.<br/>
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You swore to be my eternal blue,<br/>
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and my skin now swears by the same hue,<br/>
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lake draining into a trickle of a stream<br/>
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that, if followed, will drain into Yewiffe,</p>
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<p>into a root of midnight hands<br/>
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and walking home from shift at the grill<br/>
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wondering, what if I, feral, disappeared<br/>
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into those lonely snow-blanketed lands<br/>
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that bordered me at every turn?<br/>
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Highway headlights also a stream<br/>
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draining into boundless woods<br/>
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where I easily could swear I would<br/>
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disappear with you as if in a dream.</p>
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<p>Sablade, I promised, would be cloaked<br/>
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in sunny promising eternal spring,<br/>
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but the thought of ever losing you bades me<br/>
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to accept hail's cloak, frozen sleeping.</p>
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</blockquote>
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</body>
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</html>
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