Monday, January 19, 2009

Note to spectie/explaining an obscure commit message

I've had too much 19th century Polish poetry here... now for something completely different:

<spectie> There is no indefinite article in Manx. The definite article precedes the noun and is differentiated by number but not gender. For singular nouns, it is yn (‘n if following a vowel, y if between two consonants), and for plural nouns, it is ny.

only celtic language which has a number differentiated article
that i know of
<jimregan> what???
<spectie> does irish ?
<jimregan> both ga and gd have that
<spectie> i thought it was 'an' for everything
<jimregan> an fear - the man; na fir - the men
* spectie rings the bell of ignorance
<spectie> aha
<jimregan> heh
the next time this happens, I'm going to make you keep a chart of linguistic discoveries, so I can definitively say 'we talked about this before, more than once' :)

(spectie, consider this that reminder).

Then there's this obscure commit message:
apertium: ftyers * r8244 /trunk/incubator/apertium-ga-gv.gv.dix: and yea, one more entry be thrust upward

Easily explained:

<spectie> this grammar is too old :(
<jimregan> what gave that away?
'if the Noun be of the feminine gender'
<spectie> :D
yep basically
<jimregan> heh
English's appendix
'quick! amputate the subjunctive!'
Back to the nonsense...

Saturday, January 17, 2009

To B-- (attempt 2)

To surround me in dance, the world now conspires
On butterfly wings, it would make me an angel
Place blooms in my hands, in my eyes kindles fires
But no means can it find, my faith to unravel

I have walked on this road of joy and suffering
By which I came to the soul's own rich bounties
The home of the heart, whose ideal is changing
Because the heart knows it - the beauty of beauties

As I loved once, still to love I continue
The same form, that once I so madly pursued
The same soul for whom my affection was real

Both too in spirit, white and holy as one
In loving so I have eternal become
Through my faith in this, my eternal ideal

Friday, January 16, 2009

Do Beatr...

Do Beatr...
Zygmunt Krasiński

Darmo świat ziemski pląsem mnie otoczy,
Motylim skrzydłem chce udać anioła,
Pcha kwiaty w ręce, ciska iskry w oczy -
On wiary mojej przetworzyć nie zdoła.

Przebyłem drogę szczęścia i cierpienia
I nią doszedłem do tych ducha włości,
Gdzie się ideał serca już nie zmienia,
Bo zna go serce - pięknością piękności.

Do dziś dnia kocham, jak dawniej kochałem,
Tę samą postać, którąm ścigał szałem,
Tę samą duszę, którąm wielbił szczerze;

Obie i widmem - jednem - świętem - białem -
Tylko w kochaniu wieczniejszym się stałem,
Bo w wieczność mego ideału wierzę!

To Beat...

Freely the earthly world will surround me with dance,
on butterfly wings it wants to imitate an angel,
pushing flowers into my hands, pressing sparks into my eyes -
it won't manage to transform my faith.

I experienced the road of happiness and suffering
and by it I reached these estates of the spirit,
where the ideal of the heart is already changing,
because the heart knows it - by the beauty of beauty.

To this day I love, as I loved before,
that same form, that I chased in a frenzy,
that same soul, that I adored sincerely;

Both also in spirit - one - holy - white -
only in loving I became more eternal,
because I believe in the eternity of my ideal!