November 22, 2007

Danish–english "Translation

  Today Katrine had no ear, having hung it over the house of chief Morgen before school that afternoon. Special lessons began that afternoon. For her great day of initiation a high-priest came who had never come before, and who folded out an altar of stiff board and brought foodstuffs from the the store of Skoene, who never sold to the vagrants and general menfolk of the town. The town was infected, a town of lesions, fetched by Naese the wicked demigod in vengeance. Black magic and a mist hung over Skulderen the community that had nicked the sacred honey, special lessons had been called ever since it was pinched by a little brown dog. Puss of the vengeful kind had trickled ickily then, and ran to the rivers and adhered to the mangy velvet of gentlemen.

Before this no gentlemen passed the general store. Gnarled priests making special lessons in robes now jostled and shopped in it for goat buttocks, and suppressed farts while Katrine’s red hair was clipped off. Bringing assignments set for standing in the noonlight of the pussed school of the youngfolk, she picked a boil. As her complexion oozed much for a prominent youngperson, she spat at the oozing statues near her home on the road to school, that had the faces of the god that made it all kick off, and who had prayed for this horror of eternal indigestion and stickiness. The tide of the French salmon who spawned in the river near katrine, and who the special lessons concerned sang: ‘Hooray for Katrine! Hooray for Katrine!’ Katrine saw her boil had blobbed on her robe. Some passing men of the school joked at her struggling and repressed farts, which were another sign of having the affliction. Men liked to joke when the cry was ‘hooray’, going up the road and crest of the suspension bridge, where all men go to philosophise and banter.

‘Bad luck!’ said one, who had pustules to rival a toad.

After their passing, it became still. The salad brought inside, on a cloth of mangy velvet wilted in her hand. A icicle of snot hung on her earhole, unimpeded by earlobes, flaps of flesh or her hair, having had both sheared off for knowing after the telling. Men kept passing on the gravel road with their alterior motives, and the earlobes that banged on their jaws. Never having had great faith and fanaticism of this kind, understand she had never had such banging lobes, like the men who said the law.

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