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Post by Corrusader on Jan 26, 2006 19:24:40 GMT -5
At last, I'm done.
For those not familiar with Tarajan's story, here is the background. Tarajan, the once faithful paladin knight, used demonic power to fend of his demonic foes. If he did not, all those he swore to protect under the godess' name will not only be forfeit, but suffer godless tortures and eternal damnation. Tarajan's soley responsible for the defeat of their foes.
Eldon, Tarajan's teacher and high priest of the goddess, sought Tarajan out after the victory and banned him and his group to the underworld for betrayal to the goddess. Tarajan accepted such fate on the one condition: after death, Eldon is his to do whatever he wants with. Such time has come.
Justice of the Night
Thirteen ghosts concealed by vengful shadows Silent stone disturbed, recalled a story Of a man with fortune spelt in riddles
He had prospered hiding truth from history Yet after all these years of lies at last This is end of all his stolen glory
As sinister priest walked, gaze turned downcast Hellgates swung ajar, stoney lions sat Their crimson eyes saw guilt from Eldon's past
It was a treason he can not forget: Corrusader's ban, and Tarajan's fight It was for reasons he did not regret
Across the line came pilgrim from the light Blind beliefs barred every sign of weakness Sacred sin confronts the justice of the night
With devoted light devoured in darkness Betrayer came to face the Shadow Masked Yet behind the mask lied desparate sickness
Then Eldon had a doubting question asked By Goddess' side the faithful man remained He suffered then; a hopeless burden tasked
A morning bird to stay Corruption's hand A zombie lark to light the nightmare land.
P.S. There is one sentence with 11 syllables. I'd be very happy if someone can fix that and make it flow.
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Post by Advent Childhe on Jan 30, 2006 12:36:12 GMT -5
Greetings:
The next episode of Tarajan. Vengence is at hand.
Interesting piece. From the first glance I can say that the language is more consistant than before. I will need time to properly read this one.
In the mean time I have not produced my own Rima. I hate the biochemistry teaching labs.
Happy new year, Advent Childhe,
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Post by Corrusader on Jan 30, 2006 18:43:05 GMT -5
Thanks When my sister read this she was confused, so I thought maybe I should offer some (hopefully unnecessary) clarification. In the poem only two parties are present, Eldon and the Corrusaders. So attribute the references to whomever appropriate My sister thought Corruption had a representor there, that's not the case. Also, the story took place in front of the gates connecting the Underworld to realm of living. There's a lonely road leading up to it, two huge metal gates, and two lions carved out of stone sitting on either side.
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Post by Velata on Feb 1, 2006 3:16:17 GMT -5
... May I...?
I need to thank Corrusader for putting forth his Terza Rima a short while ago. It reminded me that I need to take some time out of reading scientific papers and trying to conduct experiments.
To this end, I'd like to present to you my own take on the Terza Rima form. I give you
Danse Macabre
A dark forest bath'd under a blood red light, At a clearing lined by loathsome mute pines, Creeping figures gather from left and right.
Sullen creatures emerg'd from cold confines; Wretchéd fallens denied grace by God's hand. Perverse Moirai* consign'd them with foul designs.
"Rise now, kindred souls, from this sullied land," Hollow clarion voices roll'd and bellow'd. "Let us defy our fate of ash and sand."
Rotten flesh yet hung on dried bones yellow'd, Screeching wraiths rous'd from an eternal rest. Unheard ire could not be with time mellow'd.
Here, a soldier with an arrow-pierc'd chest; Loudly bemoan a life lost to vain glory. Deceitful pride did cut short a hero's quest.
There lied a yet more unhappy story, Where a trusting fool turn'd victim of greed. Avarice did dye his raiments gory.
Here's a beldame* who serv'd the Devil's creed; So said the groom who took another bride. Fatal laws had he from engagement free'd.
A mother tried her sinful fruit to hide. Love play'd no hand in her sorry wedlock. Jealous fury smote her by her child's side.
Cowardice once damn'd a man of the frock*. Confess'd sins gnaw'd at a restless reason; A kind voice was hush'd with aid of hemlock.
There, and elder batter'd by high treason; Here, a young bloom pluck'd by passionate lust; And a child drown'd in a rainy season.
Lives like bleak illusions of swirling dust; Swept as sails lost in the vast, angry seas. End by a sweeping scyth and betray'd trust.
Heaven has no ears to hear mournful pleas, Nor eyes to see this grave and greusome dance: Wraiths join'd hand in hand 'midst the silent trees.
Pitiful ghouls lament'd on their cruel chance: Louder! Louder! Resound this grim prayer. Faster! Faster! They reach'd a frenzied trance.
Shrill howls rang out in the abysmal fare. Golden sunlight stopp'd them in dread fear. Morning did find them out of their dark lair.
Borrow'd time melt into garish light clear. Scatter'd voices lost into a colder sphere.
Legends: * "Moirai" are the daughters of Zeus who presided over the life and death of each person. The three sisters spin the thread of life, measure it, and finally cut it to kill the person.
* "beldame" was a fearful word coined in the early part of the 20th century in the English language to refer to witches. In order not to incur the wrath of the witches, they were referred to as "beldames", beautiful ladies.
* A "man of the frock" is a priest.
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Post by Velata on Feb 1, 2006 3:18:22 GMT -5
... May I...?
There are a few comments that I wished to say towards "Justice of the Night" as well. However, as the hours grow late, I will have to save them for another day on a better hour.
Be patient, Corrusader, and critique "Danse Macabre" in the mean time. I await your opinions.
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Post by Corrusader on Feb 1, 2006 19:58:03 GMT -5
Often when you write, you tell me interesting things of old. And you remind me that the reason of why things are done a certain way are sometimes worthwhile to find out. Dance Macabre, the ancient dance of death, to lead the spirits to their final resting place is beautifully portrayed in this poem. The ghosts, each from a different facet of misery came forth and danced. The amount of thought that went into the variaty of deaths that shared a similar sinful theme is no less than respectable. There are two specific instances that I did find somewhat used. The second one more so than the first. At the begining of the poem the setting is set as everything is in blood red light. Perhaps it's just me but everytime something that is considered dark, and that thing is red, it invariably is compared to blood. It seemed a done way to indicate something unnatural is at hand. The second instance is at the end when the wraths entered a frenzied trance. If something rhythmetic is done, like songs, dances, and chants, they have a tendency to speed up near the end and becoming frenzied. I did like the rhythem of one stanza where you introduced 3 people in 1 stanza. It gave a nice subtle increase in speed, but the words "frenzied trance" used in context of a dance got caught on the cliche radar. At first read (and not as much now) I find the characters less than multi-dimensional. Because only 3 lines are dedicated to each of them, they don't get very much development. Each of the stories serve as an outstanding begining to a subplot . But having too many different characters shallowed the depth and blurred the focus of the poem. I liked each description, they just don't have enough description. If you wish to concentrate on the people, I suggest using two stanza on each one. If you wish to focus on the dance, I suggest having a stanza describing the current movement of the dance in between the characters. You have less characters, but a better focus. I liked the second stanza. The rhyming couplet cold confines and foul designs sang out to me. I also liked the sentence "Deceitful pride did cut short a hero's quest." The words hero's quest got caught on the something-I-like radar. I liked all the characters. They're all really cool. Oh wait, this one "And a child drown'd in a rainy season" is a fitting one liner because children don't have as much story. (Especially if they drowned.) Some phrases that struck me as fitting are "fatal laws", "Jealous fury smote her..", "silent trees","morning did find them..." Another thing I liked is the legend. If you want to use a smart word/imagery, explain it to the readers so they know you're smart I find, that the less effort people have to go through to read (understand) something, the easier for that something to be read. Now questions: For the mother hiding her "sinful fruit." Did her spouse found out the child is not his? What's the colder sphere? Is having the ghosts vanquished by morning light the plan for the dance starter as their eternal rest? Some of the lives did not end by betrayed trust.. right? The elder is a person of high political influence in the group and not just an old person? Ah.. that is all. Good poem, and not just because it's about something I like.
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Post by Velata on Feb 1, 2006 22:20:52 GMT -5
... May I...?
Well, that's a lot of compliments, critique and questions! All in a few short hours! Once again, Corrusader seeks to bring colour to my face for being so tardy.
Now, permit me the space and time to respond to them as best as I can.
For Justice of the Night: Corrusader brought us up to a cliffhanger here, as we no longer know what would be the fate of the high priest as he strolled towards the gate into the afterlife. However, this poem will be unintelligible without a hint of the former story line, where this poem is nestled in. Therefore, I am secretly glad that the "background story" was filled in.
The "story" within the poem does not travel very far, mainly because a lot of its more narrative elements have been summarised and presented in the accompanying story. Therefore, if there's any fault in the story line, it lies in the fact that it is not complete. The merit of the Terza Rima is that it can run for as long as the poet wishes. The freedom in length was not exploited to its full strength to "tell the story" here.
As far as stylistics go, the language structure here is fairly consistant, except for a few lines (2, 8, 11 and 21) where a comma or a semi-colon breaks the flow and the rhythm of the line. Line 21 also presents a very fragmented sentence, since - by necessity - the players in this scene could not be referred to by name easily. Who was the "he"? Was he Eldon or the person whom Eldon was inquiring? In the same vein, there exist a small amount of ambiguity in the story, mainly because the characters were not or cannot be properly addressed. For example, in line 1, were the "thirteen ghosts" the Corrusaders? Also, the word "shadow" has been taken to mean creatures of the underworld in the Graeco-Roman myth. This leads to a furhter confusion: ghosts concealed by other "ghosts"? If those shadows were merely real "shadows" of objects, how could they be vengeful?
Hein, while we are here, can you help me with the image of a "zombie lark"?
As far was the mechanics go, this piece suffers from the difficulties arising from near rhymes in the beginning of the piece. "Shadow" if line 1 does not rhyme with "riddle" in line 3; "story' from line 2 does not rhyme with "history" of line 4 (the stress on the first syllable changes the vowel quality of the '-tory part of the word). These are all near rhymes. There is one line (15) has 11 syllables, as Corrusader noted. It's difficult to change this line without knowing the initial intent of the author. Why is it important to refer to Eldon's betrayl as a "sacred sin"? Is it necessary to keep the title of the poem in its complete form in this line? It'll be difficult to ameliorate without knowing a few things that ran through Corrusader's mind as he thought about this line.
I'll answer your questions on Danse Macabre next.
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Post by Velata on Feb 1, 2006 22:57:42 GMT -5
... May I...?
For Danse Macabre:
I have a confession to make, Tarajan's story partially inspired the Danse Macabre. The common mistake towards a name such as the Danse Macabre is that it is a gathering of the dead for a reason. Corrusader thought it was for the purpose of redemption, while others thought it was a celebration.
The Danse Macabre was originally a micracle play or a morality play devised by the Church during the late Middle Ages, when the Black Death laid waste to the European continent. The purpose of the Danse Macabre is a Momento mori. It is here to remind us of our own mortality. All men must die, be they princes on the throne or the beggers in the street.
For that purpose, this piece was written. The dancers who raised such a cacophony in this poem are here to represent people from all walks of life, from the respected elder with political powers, to a child who didn't live to see this world. The descriptions were brief to reflect the fact that life is brief. Too much description on each character detracts the reader from the focus of the poem... that we all must die, and in dying, there is no promised, happy afterlife. The characters are not truly important; neither is the dance, for that matter.
Now, for your vigilant cliché-radar: The blood red light was the dusk, as this story went from "dust 'till dawn". However, I do agree that both of these points are worthy, and I will check for these possible clichés in the future.
To answer your questions: 1. "Jealous fury" implies that the spouse eventually found out and in his rage, killed her. 2. There is no one present who could be called the "dance starter". Just as well, there is no such thing as "eternal rest" here... they were roused from it in the beginning. 3. and 4. For these people, religion played an ever-important role in their lives. Their deaths were affronts to the maxims taught by the church (every single one, including the child, who died of negligence of its parents). If their lives were not betrayed by human hands, they were betrayed by the religion they believed in (hence the Tarajan influence). The "sphere" in question is a realm. A colder realm is that of our own after the night has left. It could also be interpreted as the realm of the uncaring Gods. Either way will fit the description. 5. The elder? If he was politically affliated, he was killed by his subordinates. If he was an old person, he was killed by his younger kinsman... what does it matter?
I hope I have answered all your questions and clarified myself, if there is something else that you'd like to know further, simply write back.
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Post by Corrusader on Feb 2, 2006 19:39:20 GMT -5
I hold great passion to certain things, but have short stemina-span often.
One of the difficulties in writing in the iambic pentameter is that words such as "Tarajan" and "Corrusader" defies the meter. As they contain double short syllables. As a result for using them as little as I can, I need to refer to my characters with more obscure references. Which inevitably provided for confusion.
Yeah, the almost rhymes. If I do a revision to this poem, those will have to be smoothened out. The commas and semicolons are there either to keep the iamic pentameter, or because I'm simply cramming too much information into my sentences. An option is to make the poem longer, but past experience told me the longer a poem is, the more effort it takes for people to read.
This links to the relatively little amount of story told. I left out almost the entire meeting of Eldon and Tarajan, and simply put the result as a puzzling heroic couplet. This is because I thought I can't properly address the dialogue of the meeting in reasonable lengths of this poem, so I decided to put it in another poem.
The stanza containing line 21 is ambiguise. Eldon is meant to have a question asked to him, by Tarajan. He replied that he still sides with the goddess even at this abysmal place where the goddess doesn't exist. Then he, Eldon is cursed and charged with a difficult mission.
The zombie lark part is the cliff hanger to the other peom I'm going to write. Larks are the bird of the goddess (my sister thinks that using larks to represent light is done.) However, almost all things in the underworld is dead, thus a zombie lark. A zombie lark can fly but sings horribly. The task Eldon is charged with wass basically the same one that Tarajan has. To bring hope/light/goddess to a world they don't belong while bearing something kind of a shackle.
One can see Eldon had the task more difficult (if not impossible) because he's a powerless bird. Thus Corrusaders' vengence. To mumble on: Tarajan did this because he is tiring under this mission (desparate sickness under the mask). He seeks reassurance from his old master.
In the first line the ghosts are the Corrusaders. The shadows are actual shadows (of trees in my mind.) They are vengeful through sympathetic atmosphere: when a character is vengful, all inanimate things around him is vengful.
Sacred sin refers to the ban of the Corrusaders. It is sinful because Eldon punished a hero as opposed to reward him. It is sacred because his religion is saved because of that. Another phrase is Holy sin, but that lacks the slight alliteration. Justice of the night doesn't have to be all in one piece but unless a word can be found with the ight rhyme with a short-long syllable, starting the sentence with short-long syllable will result in a sentence with odd syllables under the pentameter.
That is all.
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Post by Genevieve on Feb 2, 2006 23:17:17 GMT -5
I'm continuing to really enjoy reading this thread; sorry I've not contributed much lately. My bad. That said, I still have neither the sonnet nor the terza rima written. Instead, I'm going to post something I was thinking of submitting for the next CP issue. Hopefully I'll get the sonnet and TR written soon... Martinis, Shaken
Vodka to crystal Crystal clear, like the lies Free-flowing as the Cinzano tonight.
Your fingers tap, eyes crinkle Nose to liquor, fill your lungs With your delight for yet another evening.
Swirl your glass ‘round ‘tween nimble, thieving fingers Deft digits made to conduct a symphonic manipulation Of operatic proportions: You’re on tonight’s playbill.
I wait with you for the curtains to rise; Fumes intoxicating as the coming illusions Already cloud me.
Swirl your glass ‘round again, and grin. I know the plot, but I can’t remember – exactly— the script.
Casting about for cues I’ve long forgotten, You think I don’t notice When you tip half your drink into the flowers, so furtively. Caught, my friend, so easily? You’re slipping.
Ah, wait. No. You knew your moment. The precision of a musician Honed to the point of your baton.
The martinis we’ve had Suddenly roar through my veins; I reel as my past moment’s realisation is sucked under To be washed ashore again – perhaps – tomorrow: Too late. I lose my grasp, but you will never slip.
Grin to yourself as I sway now, Confused. The plot escapes me and the cues Are gone in the flash of the crowd.
You sip and breathe deeply; Then roar with laughter As the evening’s curtains begin to rise. (I can't seem to get the text to a decent size without losing the indents. Blast.)
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Post by Advent Childhe on Feb 8, 2006 1:57:52 GMT -5
Nightmare
What weightless hooves haunt the sunless hours Of valieant heroes whose play is war? What presence cows these fell-handed powers?
Soundless, it trots from a Nameless land afar A cold Malice sent on a cold moon's beam That no guard, locks, nor heart of steel can bar.
Some relate with terror their lasting dream Of a jet-black mare of foreboding height - Like dark hell-flame her eyes do gleam.
She sheds terror from her sulpherous lights In mortal minds her baneful shadow looms With bayes to herald an undying night.
She kills sound dreams to sow the mind with gloom And buries our hopes when our hopes are bleak - Until naught has meaning and all are doomed.
What haven from her can the hunted seek? She will stalk our sleep in the midnight air, To make us deafe from our endless shrieks.
Leaving empty souls when the light is bare So she will return once more, olde Nightmare.
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Post by Corrusader on Feb 28, 2006 22:11:42 GMT -5
I like this piece best out of all your pieces Wayward. I know what you're talking about from the first time through: Nightmare.
I like how the nightmare is actually a night mare. A tall dark horse. That it brings terror even upon the most courageous, most brave and able bodied.
I find that some sentences the iamic pentameter is weird. Like "Soundless, it trots from a Nameless land afar." trots and from are both short and soundless and it are both long. Also that sentence has 11 syllables. War doesn't rhyme with afar and bar.
I love some of the imageries from the peom and the way they're written. It's got a Shakespear feel to it. "To make us deafe from our endless shrieks." is my favourate. Also the heart of steel one.
I also like how the poem is written to in terms of general form. How the answer to what the poem is describing is not given until the end. How she inflict terror and despair and the readers don't really know who she is. That's clever.
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Post by Velata on Mar 3, 2006 11:55:11 GMT -5
... May I...?
After a hiatus, Velata's back in the poets'c corner. Ths time, for both Martinis, shaken and Nightmare.
One thing at a time.
Martinis, shaken There's a long, extended metaphor at work here, about theatres and symphonies; players and musicians. They are graeat analogies that were almost effortlessly woven into the piece. For that, Bravo!
The story behind the peom is narrative, from a 1st person point of view. Perhaps, someting of a modern twist to what we've been having here for the last little while. That's refreshing, too. This one seemed to have been written in a very similar way as the one published on the magazine this time around, I guess this is Gen's innate style, and her skills are telling a narrative through poetry. For that, Bravo again!
However, when it comes to extended metaphors, it's not enough to cramp similar ones together and hope that they'd work together. In this piece, while a lot of parallels were drawn, there are some disturbing mixtures. For example, in lines 24 and 25, the musician is said to carry a "baton". They don't... conductors carry batons. It would seem that the person is an artist who's commanding the scene... in that case, he's the conductor (a manipulator) instead of just a musician. Similarly, there are enough references here to this being a "play" instead of a "recital" that gives this piece confusion. If it's going to be operatic (which combines both), it's not accentuated enough.
The form is ... garbled, probably due to the identation problems. This is pretty much a free verse, where there's no need to follow rhyme and rhythm. However, it would seem that there's some rhythm and cadance to this piece, especially in the beginning as well as somewhere in the middle. This brings me to the rest of the poem. Some of the rhythm seemed to be lost in the more narrative parts of the poem... the lines got longer, and they become harder to read in close succesion with the shorter phrases. It's a great idea to have an internal rhythm to a piece that has something to do with music. But it'll be harder to pull it off.
Nightmare It's sad for me to say that it seemed as if Wayward ran out of time on Nightmare. The draft is great, but the final polishings are not present. This one is not as sleek and refined as his sonnets. Granted, the Terza Rima is a very difficult scheme to work with, but with such a promising start, "Nightmare" could be even better.
Speaking of the nightmare as a "Night Mare", this seemed have some strong E.A. Poe overtones. It's not too much to think that perhaps Wayward was plagued by them as well. The descriptions and the language used in this piece are archaic, but they stay ture, consistant and accurately archaic. That's no easy feat.
There were some problems associated with the form, including miscounted syllables and near rhymes that Corrusader talked about. That'll just have to be polished off whenever Wayward has the time.
That's it for the moment. What's our next challenge?
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Post by Advent Childhe on Mar 8, 2006 16:50:34 GMT -5
Greetings:
I have been away for too long... what has become of me? I have missed so many stellar pieces. This brings me to shame.
Work has consumed my creative juices of late... and currently I have but only one source of inspiration... and she is not around alot (GRIN).
Do not worry, Lyn my muse. No one can replace you....
Some one has to come up with the next one... Who has not done it yet? Corrusader? Or must I come up with something that is harder than the Terz Rima? Muwhahahahaah!!!
No I am not evil... just artless. If no one will set up the next challenge, I will!!
on a later date.
For the Riptide Project, Advent Childhe,
PS: well done everyone!! more comments later on your pieces...
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Post by Corrusader on Mar 9, 2006 13:38:19 GMT -5
Althought I like poetry and rhymes, I've never taken much time to learn about them. Their names, forms, history and themes. The form I wrote my first poem in is in a limerick-like form containing aabb, ccdd, eeff.... and so on. So if you guys are interested, I'd like the next one to be written in rhyming couplets. Each line should be written iamic pairs. I'd like the poem to have a feeling of fantasy. Because I don't know what peoms has this form, I'm actually going to use one of my own. If the form in the example is not exactly as the rules outlined above, please accept my appologies. This poem is a clarification on the previous poem I did (The Justice of the Night) It details in on the conversation between Eldon and Tarajan about Eldon's punishment. Eldon is the high priest of the goddess who banashed Tarajan to save his faith. Eldon made a promise to Tarajan that after Eldon died, Tarajan can do what he likes with Eldon. Such time is now. Ill-Formed Quest Eldon: "I have walked with fearless vigor" Eldon: "I am light with faithful rigor" Tarajan: "Light breaks over dark truth buried" Tarajan: "Faith breaks under vengeance carried" Eldon: "Religion stays above all else" Eldon: "Devotion hides the darkest spells" Tarajan: "A world of blind then goddess reigns" Tarajan: "The name of light then goddess stains" Eldon: "For warmth of faith to brightly burn" Eldon: "The living woods to charcoal turn" Tarajan: "You now dwell in the world I am" Tarajan: "You dare still hold the goddess' name?" Eldon: "She is timeless in duration" Eldon: "She brings light through all damnation" Tarajan: "You'll atone for her betrayal" Tarajan: "Spread her hopes in her portrayal" Eldon: "A holy symbol never falls" Eldon: "It answers to the vilest calls" Tarajan: "The morning birds bear goddess’ mark" Tarajan: "You'll journey as a zombie lark" Eldon: "From rotting flesh come mighty trees" Eldon: "From ill-formed quest my conscience frees" Tarajan: "Go bravely on in deathly chill" Tarajan: "Restore my faith in goddess’ will." So if I'm unclear in some way (as often happen in poems), Tarajan wants Eldon to spread the goddess' faith, which no one believes in the underworld to evil people (traiters, murderers, liers and such). To convert them, give them warmth and hope, AND do it as a zombie lark (living larks don't come to the underworld). So this is hard, and if Eldon can do it (viewed by Tarajan to be a greater sacrifice than Tarajan's sacrifice), Tarajan will believe that his sacrifice is justified, and have faith in the goddess again. EDIT: I want feedback on this poem as well please EDIT2: Fixed some syllable problems pointed out by Velata. Thanks a bunch!
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