On this particularly bright and sleepless morning which began with a formal call from the career center, events otherwise known as
radiantfracture and Existential Comics having conspired to bring the Tractactus to the forefront of my mind, I have decided that the most cursed translation of Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen is "I feel that if a person can't communicate, the very least he can do is to shut up."
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- 1: אַ ליבעלע װערט אַ ליבע, אַ לידעלע װערט אַ ליד
- 2: Did you bring gold? Did you bring silver to set me free?
- 3: Make me a wreck as I come back and spare me as I'm going
- 4: Keeping time on the kingfisher's climb
- 5: To the green field by the sea
- 6: Did you see the closing window? Did you hear the slamming door?
- 7: Because brick-braided alleys make steep, sleeping valleys seem level and clear
- 8: Don't look round, but I think we're taking off
- 9: Sing the praise of Alexander, he's no use to me
- 10: The hedges and fields are clothed all around with several sorts of green
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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