107 lines
3.7 KiB
HTML
Executable file
107 lines
3.7 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<html>
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<head>
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<title>Ear</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/ear.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_ear.svg"><img src="../img/runes/ear.svg" alt="Ear rune" title="Ear rune"></a></p>
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<h1>Ear</h1>
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<p>Traditional meaning: hanging tree / grave</p>
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<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>death and loss are part of life</li>
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<li>for one thing to live, another must die</li>
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<li>your life needs a reboot</li>
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<li>it is certain your life will be radically upended</li>
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<li>all you can control is how you react to it</li>
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<li>passage from one state of being to another</li>
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<li>let go and move on</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>Jett's promise ("I will never leave you behind")</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Ear can be useful for:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>welcoming gradual but inevitable change</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>Ear byþ egle eorla gehwylcun,<br>ðonn[e] fæstlice flæsc onginneþ,<br>hraw colian, hrusan ceosan<br>blac to gebeddan; bleda gedreosaþ,<br>wynna gewitaþ, wera geswicaþ.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>The grave is horrible to every knight,<br>when the corpse quickly begins to cool<br>and is laid in the bosom of the dark earth.<br>Prosperity declines, happiness passes away<br>and covenants are broken.</blockquote>
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<p>There is not a Norwegian rune poem for Ear.</p>
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<p>A modern poem:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p><strong>Death and loss are a part of life.<br/>
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For one thing to live, another must die</strong>,<br/>
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or maybe a great many things,<br/>
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the blood on my hands accumulating over time.</p>
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<p>When our bodies have decayed<br/>
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and the earth has our flesh reclaimed,<br/>
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it will for archeologists be hard<br/>
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to tell our skeletons apart.<br/>
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And that is if they can even plumb Yewiffe,<br/>
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can descend down the roots of that massive tree<br/>
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where tangled and intertwined lies<br/>
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the forgotten, the repressed, the passed parts of my life.</p>
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<p>Maybe one of them will find<br/>
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a moment that has yet to happen<br/>
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where my parents finally of my wretched blood ken<br/>
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and toss me out onto the streets.<br/>
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This is, of course, if they do not deem<br/>
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me a demon, a thief,<br/>
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a persistent adept-at-lying possessor<br/>
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of what they all this time called their daughter<br/>
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and grant me at their own hands a slaughter.</p>
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<p>For this to come to pass I know is certain,<br/>
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for even the best of my secrets I could not hide forever.<br/>
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In Ragnarok even the gods from their lives were severed.<br/>
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<strong>It mattered not<br/>
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how mightily anyone fought:<br/>
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for all ill-fated was drawn life's curtain.</p>
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<p>All that anyone could control<br/>
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was how they reacted to it,<br/>
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how the coming end they greeted.</strong></p>
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<p>And the coming end I seek,<br/>
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if this is the fate I am doomed to keep,<br/>
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is that this time<br/>
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for once in my life<br/>
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I do not from my beliefs<br/>
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back down.<br/>
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Instead of snapping in the hurricane,<br/>
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I rest on these roots dug so deep<br/>
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and refuse to recant my name.</p>
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<p>And when I die,<br/>
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I will be able to look you in the eyes<br/>
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with no burning guilt and no unsettled regrets.<br/>
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I will have proved to you my loyalty<br/>
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and you to me your promise<br/>
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to never leave me behind.<br/>
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Now take me to Sablade, set us free.<br/>
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We have earned our three days of rest.</p>
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</blockquote>
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</body>
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</html>
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