6.7.11 § 1 commentarius

1  Nest baragon wor clāron,   No bread on the board,
     nec curmi in nāwyāi.       nor beer in the bowl.
 Stagrās samosespās   Summer-dry streams
     wo·selont samalī caχtās.       slink low like slaves.
5Au·tetoye arincā,   Gone is the wheat,
     etic windosasyos.       and the white barley.
 Sēbroi tarbont slēbos,   Spectres haunt the threshing-floor,
     serrās wor selwān crabancās.          sickles in clawed hands.
 Cu donyos maleti·yo?   Where now the miller,
10    Uχsū mantrāti·yo?       and the trampling oxen?
 Yon tausyont maginā,   When the millstone falls silent,
     mailos est martos butācī.       evil is the farmer's fate.
 Cridyā ambaχton coryon,   Wolves gnaw the heart,
     cnāyontor bladibi.       of warband and ploughmen.
15    Nest blātos in bolgē,   No ground grain in the bag,
     nec curmi bracitegesi.       nor beer in the brewhouse.

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