Morning John (1am-ish here),
Hate-ins are inevitable, I've decided. It was a shame because I'd had a very pleasant time on that site for almost a decade. But once people become set in their shady ways, there's no point persevering.
I know quite a lot of musical terms, I've just realised. That trip was amazing; I had so much fun revisiting the places I'd visited and learning new things. I think some of the poems are still in Freshtival here.
Thanks for your latest contributions to this thread. I'm very tired at the moment (I just performed a pre-sleep kick), but I'll be back tomorrow to take a proper look. In the meantime, please enjoy this terrible rendering of Mussorgsky's 'Bydło' (music here
). I do intend to rewrite it at some stage, but here we are in Amusements, lol.
Sheets of rain sweep through the fields
cattle stand and shiver
track verge trembles, shakes then yields
road becomes a river.
Farmer must prepare his cart
take his stock to market
hitch two oxen, shout to start
"Come, Borys and Czarit!"
So the big beasts drop horned heads
set their great limbs trundling
past the farmyard barns and sheds
bearing timber bundling.
See the high cart wheels race round
hurling mud on all sides!
hear the oxen's huge hoofs pound
through the screeching squall tides!
Closer closer they approach
whirring, rattling, creaking!
north wind forcing their encroach
on the bank, shrill shrieking!
Smell Borys' and Czarit's sweat
streaming down their tough flanks!
mingling with the earthen wet
rushing from the bluff banks!
"Whoa there!" Farmer strokes his whip
to avoid a tall oak
Borys shifts a hefty hip
rights the flailing haul yoke.
Then the cart turns into town
and the rainstorm passes
on the farm the sun shines down
cattle chomp moist grasses.
- - -
I particularly like 'shrill shrieking', I think