M
Mulligan
Guest
so i was wondering if i could have some tips and hints in trying to find out the object of these riddles/poems
the first one goes like this.
a moth ate word. that seemed to me a strange event, when i heard of that wonder, that the worm, a thief in the darkness, should devour the song of a man, a famed utterance and a thing founded by a strong man. the thievish visitant was no whit the wiser for swallowing the words
second riddle/poem
my abode is not silent, nor i myself loud voiced; the lord laid upon us, shaped our course together; i am swifter than he, stronger at times, he more laborious; sometimes i rest; he must needs run on. i ever dwell in him while i live: if we are parted together death is destiny.
-is this poem something about someones heart?-
the third poem/riddle
my nose is downward; i go deep and dig into the ground; i move as they grey foe of the wood guides me, and my lord who goes stooping as gaurdian at my tail; he pushes me in the plain, and bears and urges me, sows in my track. i hasten forth, brought from the grove, strongly bound, carried on the wagon, i have many wounds; on one side of me as i g there is green, and on the other my track is clear black. drive through my back a cunning point hangs beneath; another on my head fixed and prone falls at the side so that i tear with my teeth. if he who is my lord serves me rightly from behind
-so i was thinking that a farmer cutting down a tree with an axe-
the first one goes like this.
a moth ate word. that seemed to me a strange event, when i heard of that wonder, that the worm, a thief in the darkness, should devour the song of a man, a famed utterance and a thing founded by a strong man. the thievish visitant was no whit the wiser for swallowing the words
second riddle/poem
my abode is not silent, nor i myself loud voiced; the lord laid upon us, shaped our course together; i am swifter than he, stronger at times, he more laborious; sometimes i rest; he must needs run on. i ever dwell in him while i live: if we are parted together death is destiny.
-is this poem something about someones heart?-
the third poem/riddle
my nose is downward; i go deep and dig into the ground; i move as they grey foe of the wood guides me, and my lord who goes stooping as gaurdian at my tail; he pushes me in the plain, and bears and urges me, sows in my track. i hasten forth, brought from the grove, strongly bound, carried on the wagon, i have many wounds; on one side of me as i g there is green, and on the other my track is clear black. drive through my back a cunning point hangs beneath; another on my head fixed and prone falls at the side so that i tear with my teeth. if he who is my lord serves me rightly from behind
-so i was thinking that a farmer cutting down a tree with an axe-