I hope you've all been fine and well? No upsets? No disasters? No tornadoes, floods, unexpected sinkholes, avalanches, mudslides, blizzards, hailstorms, lightning strikes, hurricanes, earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, volcanoes, sandstorms, alien abductions, toxic spills, transit strikes? I hope not, I really do. Because that would be unspeakable, it really would. But we're not here to dwell on the unspeakable. We're here for something fun: more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, tweak the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
This week's feature is from Giuseppe Verdi's opera Il Trovatore, the famous "Anvil Chorus" (watch live concert performance here; the good part starts at about 1:02). Enjoy.
Machine Tools In Action!
Make sure you go! When Foch Notorni dies,
Sky Ruth undresses.
So it seems like a widow
to us in Brunei Darussalam.
In action! In action!
Standing line go.
Gypsy people breathe everyday thing!
Strum, Lena, and courage. I am tent.
It has the same name as the wine, and will be moving.
Look as if they allow him to do so! Snow in knickers,
spotlight on me!
Machine tools in action!
Each day there is much invigorated gipsy!