(or, Fathom’s Moment, because there are two seconds in a moment.)
Obviously, this was written for direct consumption by Lululu, but love is to share, so here you go.
I’ll be a while
Because I need to see the sun set
What will we do?
Who am I to ask such a question?
We stay two
Because you know how I feel about you
And you don’t know all the things I could do
Can you save me from the twilight?
We don’t know how you feel about it too.
Thought you were gone
And I guess I was right for a moment
And I guess that I should have known better
Than to think
Think that I could ever know for a moment
What your beautiful soul
What the gift the divine soul could show it
What do I do
Because I really hoped to have known you
All of it gone
I just wish that I’d had a little guidance
Because I’ll be thinking about you oftentimes
And I’ll find my own way now
But I wonder if I’d find you
and I wonder if you would love me even if I did
Because you don’t even make it to my dreams
(Except that one night you did)
What does it mean
That all of my hands have changed since I met you
Has it been for the best I can’t tell you
How do I know
How do I know which is good which is poor and
I want to ask you
But I know that I know what the rules are
And I know that you’ve built up this wall in my way here
And I know that you put it all up
Are they really here for a reason
I’ve been doubting your thoughts for a long time
Because I think you should think for a moment
And I want you to give me a reason
You know I’ve had some negative thoughts now
Like, oh why is she calling the shots now
When she said that she was the one making mistakes
And that I was never to blame
Deals are subject to whim,
But it comes back to us.
You know I think it’s obvious that
That we are both to blame for this place
I said to myself oh how futile
Because you know we both know
We both know that it isn’t just me.
Did I say I would wait?
And did you hear when I called out your name?
“What have I done”
I would think it over and over
Because I really thought it was over
And then you rekindled a bit,
You know it isn’t too late to saw we were wrong
And we know I’ll make sure you don’t regret
That you don’t regret anything that we’ve done
I’ll make sure that I wait for a moment,
But don’t wait too long because you know it
You know that this fades away-
And I really don’t know how you see it
But I’d rather stay here in eden
And would I notice
If you walked beneath the treetops
And I could smell the moss and the branches
Our glowing beams
And if I noticed that you were walking there
If you were all alone, and even if you were not,
I would call out your name.
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show
BY SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586)
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,—
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;
Studying inventions fine her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others’ leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburn’d brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention’s stay;
Invention, Nature’s child, fled step-dame Study’s blows;
And others’ feet still seem’d but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
“Fool,” said my Muse to me, “look in thy heart, and write.”
This was not written by me,
But by someone far more experienced.
I really liked it, so I
Took it from the public doman,
August 21, 2018, to share with ya’ll.
If you’ve been on this site for a long time, you know that I love not just classics, but also the forerunners in the Novel genre. Some of the first Novels ever written were Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver’s Travels and Don Quixote. Both were preceded by a plethora of Greek Novels that I’ve fallen in love with, like Callirhoe and Daphnis and Chloe, and even works I’m not so interested in, such as The Golden Ass. As fun and interesting as those Greek Novels were, they were very archetypal, that is, typical of the technical comedy genre.
The more modern novels like Don Quixote (written in 1612 by Miguel De Cervantes), hold premises that to this day remain unique. Don Quixote is an old man living in a world that has recently grown out of medieval Knights and Kings. He decides to become a knight, and bring back chivalry, donning his grandfather’s rusted armour, mounting his horse, and recruiting his neighbour Sancho Panza. These extra chapters were written by a guest writer, and edited by me and some of my friends.
Writer: Andrew Triumph
Editor(s): Daniel Triumph
and Maya Singh
Don Quixote Punishes a Thief
Don Quixote and his squire Sancho Panza were complimenting their latest adventure just as the sun passed its highest point. On their most recent quest to right the wrong, help the needy, and loot any fallen foe to get in their way, Quixote had encountered an especially tough opponent, one who had no knowledge of Quixote’s noble intentions. It was this ignorance that had led the man to a swift defeat when Quixote hit him on the head with his lance.
After the skirmish, Quixote found that the tough part of this encounter was not defeating the enemy, but rather the recovering of the sack that had been dropped. The loot in question had fallen down a hole. Thinking quickly, Don Quixote ordered his squire to retrieve their prize.
Sancho Panza usually had his ass do all of his work. The ass dutifully went into the ditch, but the mule couldn’t pick up the sack, nor could it get out of the hole on his own. It was because of this that Sancho was forced to not only retrieve the sack, which Quixote had claimed to contain stolen goods, but also his heavy mule.
Being the kind of man he was, Sancho resisted his duty immediately, saying that they had done enough knightly justice by punishing the offender, and that it was up to the victim to retrieve his own goods. This protest was swiftly refuted. Quixote explained that, because the thief had fallen to him, a knight, the stolen goods were now rightfully his. He added that due to both the knightly code and as reward for their good deeds, the stolen goods were now rightfully his. Though Sancho knew little of the knightly code, he knew much of his rights as a squire. He knew that the spoils therefore rightfully his.
It was this reflection that motivated Sancho to fumble down the hole, grab the bag, and climb back up. He had to catch his breath before falling down the hole again. When Sancho had reached the bottom, he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to move his mule. While Sancho pondered how he could possibly move so stout a creature, the ass trotted out of the hole.
Once Sancho climbed out, he noticed that Quixote had already started down the path ahead. Sancho mounted his ass and caught up. While they rode, Sancho dug into the contents of the bag. In it, he saw a couple of silver reals, a poorly made wooden sculpture, a pendant, and a pair of cotton gloves.
“Are you sure it was a thief?” Sancho asked.
“Of course!” Quixote replied, “his apparel made it obvious.”
Sancho didn’t remember seeing anything strange about the stranger’s was clothing, but this explanation satisfied him. He took the reals out of the sack and put them in one of his bags, then he handed the sack to Quixote, who took it and examined the contents.
“I admit that he mustn’t have been a good thief,” Don Quixote said as he put on the gloves, “none of these items are worth thieving.”
Don Quixote Fights a Witch
The sun had begun its decent and the clouds were spread across the sky as Quixote and his squire rode into an overgrown field. A lonely figure stood in the center, surrounded by a sea of grass. It was waist high. Sancho found the scene quite relaxing; pink dusk contrasting green grass, a forest separating it from the horizon. The scene, as well has his previous tumble with certain holes, were enough to make Sancho quite drowsy.
“Don’t fall asleep!” Quixote warned his squire, “For you won’t wake again if you do.”
Just before Sancho could get any words out of his yawning mouth, Quixote explained, “You are under the witch’s spell, it will drain your soul from slumber.”
“What witch?” Sancho asked.
“That witch there!” Quixote exclaimed under his voice.
“I don’t see any witch.”
“She has gotten to your perception already. Stay here, and I will sneak up to her before she can hex me away.”
Sancho nodded and pulled out a loaf of bread. He watched Quixote dismount his horse and crawl towards the figure in the field. Now alone, he took the opportunity to break wind.
It was on his third bite of the bread that he could no longer see Quixote’s figure among the grass. He had eaten half of the loaf when he saw Quixote rise behind the figure in the distance.
“In the name of Dulcinea del Toboso and all that is right, I smite thee, most vile and wretched being!” Quixote lifted his lance with both hands and brought it down hard upon the figure. A great spray of dust arose, the figure’s head fell off and plopped to the ground.
Bewildered by this sudden act of decapitation, Sancho hurried his ass to Quixote and the headless figure. As he approached, he saw what had been supporting the figure — a single leg that, until now, was hidden in the grass.
“It’s a scarecrow,” Sancho said.
“It is now,” Quixote explained, becoming quite tired of Sancho’s persistent ignorance, “have you learned nothing from our encounter with the Giants? The witch must have turned herself into a scarecrow just like how she turned those Giants into windmills, right before my lance’s strike.”
Sancho ate the rest of his loaf.
“This sorcery has been her very undoing. She will not be able to turn back to her ungodly form to continue her evil deeds for she will exsanguinate if she tries to change back without a head.” Quixote explained all of this slowly to make sure Sancho did not become too confused. He took the sorcerer’s twine-bound head in his arms and gave it to his squire to stow away as proof of his chivalrous act. “One less witch to torment this land.”
With both the world and Sancho’s mistake righted once again, Quixote set up camp and they fell asleep.
Thank you for coming to read this post from my blog’s first guest writer!