76 lines
2.6 KiB
HTML
Executable file
76 lines
2.6 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<title>Perthro</title>
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<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Runic_letter_pertho.svg"><img src="../img/runes/perthro.svg" alt="Perthro rune" title="Perthro rune"></a></p>
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<h1>Perthro</h1>
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<p>Traditional meaning: divination tool</p>
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<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>totality of Yewiffe</li>
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<li>primal womb from which all ideas flow</li>
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<li>passageway between states of being</li>
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<li>the future inquired about is unknown</li>
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<li>a musician or entertainer</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>this will certainly come to pass</li>
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<li>you need to know</li>
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<li>chaos/confusion</li>
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<li>stagnation/anhedonia</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Perthro can be useful for:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>evocation of prophetic dreams</li>
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<li>holding repressed memories</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>Peorð byþ symble plega and hlehter<br>wlancum [on middum], ðar wigan sittaþ<br>on beorsele bliþe ætsomne.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>Peorth is a source of recreation and amusement to the great,<br>where warriors sit blithely together in the banqueting-hall.</blockquote>
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<p>There is not a Norwegian rune poem for Perthro.</p>
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<p>A modern poem:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>All that you've done so far has led me to believe<br/>
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that every winter of our passing will be followed by a spring.<br/>
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That, no matter how dark and cold between you and I it gets,<br/>
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the clouds will eventually break and the sun will shine again.</p>
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<p>But still I have no clue what the fates will us bestow<br/>
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when it gets longer between our touch and what words pass are cold<br/>
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with disappointment, misunderstandings, or simply had a bad day<br/>
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and, although still loving, cannot any measure of warmth feign.</p>
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<p>Deep purple dice cup with thick frosting of dust<br/>
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as though this were a bakery and Time held a brush<br/>
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to sugar everything, last breath of a world that for me did not wait,<br/>
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beckoning me to twist the lid and allow myself to play.</p>
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<p>"No people are more addicted to divination by omens and lots."<br/>
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My genes mark me no different. But the only words I ever sought<br/>
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were from you, my lilac spring, and even then mostly<br/>
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I just wanted to know if you still loved me.</p>
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<p>My head in your lap as you lean against<br/>
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a tree trunk, not Yewiffe but still offering rest.<br/>
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Arboreal claws we lie intimate between,<br/>
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scales ruffling above in the gentle breeze.</p>
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<p>"I don't live in Wyrd, Lethe; I'm far from a Norn.<br/>
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I can't see to which fate this world has you sworn.<br/>
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But this, I feel, I insist you need to know:<br/>
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my love for you will always burn no matter how buried by snow."</p>
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</blockquote>
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