Why you should let it go instead of not getting over an ex (page 73)
望北斗星辰
炎黄子孙 开枝散叶 扎下了根
在东方筑起了一座座城 一道道门
wàng běidǒu xīngchén
yánhuáng zǐsūn kāizhī sànyè zhāxiàle gēn
zài dōngfāng zhùqǐle yízuòzuò chéng yídàodào mén
Look to the Beidou sky of stars
The Yan and Huang Emperors’ children and grandchildren open their branches, spread their leaves, bury down their roots
In the East built up cities and gates
— 方文山 Fang Wenshan, lyricist
— (English translation above by me)
~~~~~
Emil plunged the stone-knife into the Danish prince’s heart, and broke the spell over the little meer-maid’s life. O the consequence!
The gods were displeased. The gods were easily displeased. Sometimes it feels as if a person could not so much as turn around in a tight apartment without stepping on some god or another’s injured glory. The gods are a lot like us, only more so.
The old gods, the new gods, the northern Viking gods, the southern Nile gods, the multi-headed Slavic gods, the dragon-formed Cathayan gods. There was no shortage of gods.
The dead prince’s father, King Valdemar of Denmarke, sent his Bishop Absalon of war across the waters to Emil’s islands in fury. With him rode northern gods both old and new. On the island the Wends called Rujana, the Germans Rügen, the Romans Rugia, on the Feast Day of Svantovít, with Thor invisible but by their side, the Danes toppled and burnt Svantovít’s temple at Arkona. Even today, you can go to the ruins, and see for yourself just one of the consequences of Emil’s knife plunged into the prince of Kopenhagen’s heart for love of the little meer-maid.
And that’s before we get to all the other turmoil. Join me tomorrow.