Strategies & Market Trends : Moomin Valley (formerly Troll-free Zone)

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To: Moominoid who wrote (52)2/22/2009 10:42:25 PM
From: TobagoJack1 Recommendation  Read Replies (1) of 2852
good back then
still good now
i like good literature.

i read it as something about bulls, bears, heads, shoulders, blood, gore, panic and screams

There comes she, bathed in the scent of henna enough for seven maidens, in a scent of coriander/saffron and ambergris/murex. Closes the gates of the house does ´Anat and meets she the messengers at the base of the mountain. And lo, ´Anat gives battle in the valley; Mightily she cuts in pieces the people of the two cities; She slaughters the people of the Western Shore; She destroys the men of the Eastern Sunrise.

Beneath her like balls roll heads, above her like locusts fly palms of hands; like avenging grasshoppers are the hands of the quick warriors. She hangs heads on her back; she binds hands to her belt. Up to her knees she wades in BLOOD of the swift soldiers, to her thighs in the gore of quick warriors. With her shafts she drives out the enemies; with her bow-string the foes.

And lo, ´Anat to her house proceeds; Betakes herself does the goddess to her palace. But not sated is she with the fighting in the valley, by her cutting down the sons of the (two) cities. She sets up chairs for swift soldiers; she sets up tables for troops; footstools for heroes.

Greatly she battles and beholds; ´Anat hews & cleaves and observes; Swelled are her innards with laughter, filled is her heart with joy, the liver of ´Anat with triumph. Up to her knees she wades in BLOOD of swift soldiers, to her thighs in the gore of quick warriors. until she is sated she fights in the house. she hews and cleaves amid the tables. Wiped from the house is the BLOOD of swift soldiers; Poured (out) is oil of peace[-offering] (for peace & well-being) from a bowl. She washes her hands, Batalat ´Anat, the Maiden; her fingers, Yabamat Li`imim: the Kindred of the Peoples (of Ugarit)/ Thousand (Deities); She washes her hands of the BLOOD of swift soldiers, her fingers of the gore of quick warriors.

Puts back chairs with chairs, tables with tables, footstools she puts back with footstools. She scoops up water and washes, in dew of the Heavens, oil of the Earth (i.e., fat of the land), rain from Rider of the Clouds/which pour the clouds; dew that the heavens pour out, rain the stars pour, spray the stars shed. She adorns herself with murex/ambergris, one thousand tracts away its source in the sea.
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