A letter from Pavis

From: CWARD_at_srv0.bio.ed.ac.uk
Date: Wed, 25 Feb 1998 15:25:17 +0000


Sir,

 I enclose a letter routinely intercepted from --------- to an associate in Peloria. Needless to say the has sender been placed under close observation. I recommend the arrest of --------- and his correspondent. Our Irripi "comrades" see some value in the study of inferior cultures, but there are limits to what should be tolerated. ----------- has clearly overstepped the boundary between academic study and the dissemination of alien propaganda.

All Hail the Goddess,

Sardonicus

Dear Antonius,

 I apologise for my delay in writing - the interminable collecting of figures for the Imperial Auditors will one day take over my entire life ! As consolation for the overlong absence of your name from my quill (though not my thought, rest assured) I am sending you another song transcribed from the barbarians. This one seams to be of recent and local origin - only the Pavic barbarians surely have the cosmopolitan mix of tribal cultures to produce a work such as this. I need not point out perhaps that this is not one for you public lectures on primitive cultural music. The "tune" is an unfamiliar one, played on those awful drone-sacks, though fortunately the song is usually unaccompanied by those instruments of torture. I enclose a translation of the words into a more civilised language at the end.

Always your friend and pupil,

Verdigris

 [Roch the wind in the clear days dawnin'  Blaws the cloods heelster-gowdy o'er the bay  But it's mair nor a roch wind blawin'
 Through the great glen o' the wurld the day  It's a thote that wid gar oor rottans
 A' they rogues that gang gallus fresh an' gay  Tak the road an' seek ither loanins
 For their ill ploys tae sport an' play.] (1)

 Nae mair will oor [bonnie callants] (2)  Bend the knee when a braggart crously craws  Nor wee weans (3) fi longhouse an' clachan  Mourn the freedoms of their faithers lost  The broken faimilies o' oor land sae harried  Will unavenged mourn nae mair, nae mair  As a' the clans, yin tae ither married
 Sweeps the vile barracks o' an empire bare

 So come a' ye at hame wi' freedom
 Never mind whit the hoodies croak fur doom  In oor hoose a' the bairns (3) o' Sartar  Will find breid, barley-bree (4) an' biddin' room  When Argarth (5) lights the flame in Whitewall  A' the roses an' geans (6) will turn tae bloom  An' the thunder of the raging white bull (7)  Knocks the fel temples o' the rid moon doon                

(1)Rough the wind in the clear days dawning

   Blows the clouds head-over-heels" over the bay    But it's more than a rough wind blowing    Through the great glen of the world today    It 's a thought that would make our rats    All those rogues that strut about/posture    Take to the road and find other places/locations    Their evil plans to carry out

(2) "fine young folk"

(3) weans & bairns are both words for children

(4) a local drink

(5) not as others assume a proper name, but rather a barbarian word
 translating as he/she who will come/ the promised one i.e. a son
(or daughter) of Sartar

(6) apple trees

(7) I am unable to locate this allusion in the traditional barbarian myths,
perhaps I misheard this phrase.

(Apologies to Hamish Henderson)

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