94 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
Executable file
94 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
Executable file
<html>
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<head>
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<title>Raido</title>
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<link href="./style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" title="main" media="all">
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</head>
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<body>
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<p class="center"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Runic_letter_raido.svg"><img src="../img/runes/raido.svg" alt="Raido rune" title="Raido rune"></a></p>
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<h1>Raido</h1>
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<p>Traditional meaning: riding</p>
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<p>Meanings when upright:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>movement from one state of being to another</li>
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<li>escaping from trouble</li>
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<li>arising after spiritual descent</li>
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<li>unstoppable force</li>
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<li>time to decide on something of great importance</li>
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<li>a person involved with the law or transportation</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>draining someone's energy</li>
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<li>misleading business dealings (when paired with Ansuz</li>
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<li>a change in direction</li>
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<li>hard times are ahead</li>
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<li>spiritual boredom from rigid/stifling routines</li>
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</ul>
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<p>Raido can be useful for:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>pushing over obstacles</li>
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<li>riding the waves of realization/awakening further</li>
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<li>getting oneself out of a rut</li>
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<li>obtaining justice</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>Rad byþ on recyde rinca gehwylcum<br>sefte ond swiþhwæt, ðamðe sitteþ on ufan<br>meare mægenheardum ofer milpaþas.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>Riding seems easy to every warrior while he is indoors<br>and very courageous to him who traverses the high-roads<br>on the back of a stout horse.</blockquote>
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<p>Norwegian rune poem:</p>
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<blockquote>Ræið kveða rossom væsta;<br>Reginn sló sværðet bæzta.</blockquote>
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<blockquote>Riding is said to be the worst thing for horses;<br>Reginn forged the finest sword.</blockquote>
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<p>A modern poem:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>I promised Luce as she sat up on high<br/>
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that I would make it out of this house alive,<br/>
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but it's been nearly four years since<br/>
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the hasty impassioned words spilled from my lips<br/>
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and I am no closer to keeping it.</p>
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<p>I was too inexperienced, not yet downtrod<br/>
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to forsee the beginning of the Eschaton:<br/>
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governments imploding, prices the opposite,<br/>
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men I will never gaze upon my rights rescind.<br/>
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This room I once viewed as an unbarred jail cell<br/>
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has become a cocoon, a safe place from hell,<br/>
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and although I've supped on the sweet taste of wages<br/>
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there's no way I could these days survive by myself.</p>
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<p>It's not much of a choice if one bades me decide:<br/>
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"Run for it and perish, or stay here and die."<br/>
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Embed myself in a world I'm unequipped for<br/>
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and die on the streets forgotten and unmoored,<br/>
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or bury myself deeper in bedsheets every day<br/>
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until compost sets in and I begin to decay.</p>
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<p>I'm not sure that I have to make a choice,<br/>
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today, tomorrow, next week, month, ever.<br/>
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I could treat it like every other problem<br/>
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I have: ignore it as it gradually gets worse<br/>
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and try to live best I can in the meantime.<br/>
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<strong>But where to steer the boat if I <em>did</em> take the helm?<br/>
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Where to maraude that won't leave me devoid<br/>
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of this world in my body, murky depths of the sea<br/>
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no person can map and certainly not I?</strong><br/>
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It's been so long since I started drowning<br/>
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that my neck grew gills and I learned how to breathe.</p>
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</blockquote>
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</body>
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</html> |