“Language is the most massive and inclusive art we know, a mountainous and anonymous work of unconscious generations.”

Dryadian Legend: Princess of Camellias

Sworel Ńuladcy

Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Zcoruń zcevghelsuń ksalu saem basium,
Kratcin saemaeruńin svuresis.
Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Zcoruń zcevghelsuń smiru saem basium,
Arzcin vzulotc hwynotc wim basis.

Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Armuń ardcemierguń luna scnym basium,
Zlurma ńulurhise hem basis.
Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Armuń ardcemierguń ersa zem basium,
Ghru wadcu ghaera svem basis.

Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Ńuluń ńarhelsuń durmise krem basium,
Ksalu deryń poroń wim basis.
Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Ńuluń ńarhelsuń zarzcela pwem basium,
Gzcurotu ardces wim basis.

Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Swaruń Sorymzcluń ersa lestom basium,
Klivne swaera zeń evasis.
Zala zvala ńuladcia tcelyh-tcelyh zeral.
Swaruń Sorymzcluń mlodcin ers’sem basium,
Sieria ghela zlestom basis.

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Princess of Camellias

The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
Under the summer sunset she fought with her mother,
Though living in a land on the brink of war.
The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
Under the summer sunset she fought with the world,
Despite being so young, innocent and naive.

The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
In the growing autumn nights she watched the moon,
Although in lachrimosity she seeked death.
The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
In the growing autumn nights she found love,
Even though they kissed in impudance.

The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
With the winter sunrise she ran away from home,
Even though her mother tried to stop her.
The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
With the winter sunrise she lost the ones she loved,
Yet she was the one who had done wrong.

The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
In the warm spring days she asked for forgiveness,
Although no one could hear her.
The delicate petals of the Camellia fall one by one.
In the warm spring days she had matured,
Yet she was to give up her autonomy forever.

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