Ô rage, Ô despair! The poet, cast far away from courtly splendor… For a clever quip, banished… No: the rhys don't work!
You pause for a mont, considering how to better translate your own story.
Ô rage, Ô dark despair, far from the court’s fair light; The poet stands exiled, condemned for words once slight.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Much better. As for the musical accompanint, you'll see about that later. Already, clearings in the forest are appearing, announcing the proximity of human lands. These grim places, populated by uncultured people, will unfortunately be your new ho. Making the best of a bad situation, you will have to take it upon yourself to entertain the ignorant onlookers, for one must earn a living.
With a heavy heart, proceed to 211.
Reviews
All reviews (0)