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April 10, 2026
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"Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere; Þurȝ gresse to grounde hit fro me yot. I dewyne, fordolked of luf-daungere Of þat pryuy perle wythouten spot."
"Dubbed wern alle þo downeȝ sydeȝ Wyth crystal klyffeȝ so cler of kynde. Holtewodeȝ bryȝt aboute hem bydeȝ Of bolleȝ as blwe as ble of Ynde; As bornyst syluer þe lef on slydeȝ, Þat þike con trylle on vch a tynde. Quen glem of glodeȝ agaynȝ hem glydeȝ, Wyth schymeryng schene ful schrylle þay schynde."
"In þe founce þer stonden stoneȝ stepe, As glente þurȝ glas þat glowed and glyȝt, As stremande sterneȝ, quen stroþe-men slepe, Staren in welkyn in wynter nyȝt."
"The dubbement dere of doun and daleȝ, Of wod and water and wlonk playneȝ, Bylde in me blys, abated my baleȝ, Fordidden my stresse, dystryed my payneȝ. Doun after a strem þat dryȝly haleȝ I bowed in blys, bredful my brayneȝ; Þe fyrre I folȝed þose floty valeȝ, Þe more strenghþe of ioye myn herte strayneȝ."
"Moteleȝ may so meke and mylde", Þen sayde I to þat lufly flor, "Bryng me to þat bygly bylde And let me se þy blysful bor." Þat schene sayde: "Þat God wyl schylde; Þou may not enter wythinne hys tor."
"Luf lokez to luf & his leue takez, For to ende alle at onez & for euer twynne. By forty dayez wern faren, on folde no flesch styryed."
"Hit waltered on þe wylde flod, went as hit lyste, Drof vpon þe depe dam, in daunger hit semed, Withouten mast, oþer myke, oþer myry bawelyne, Kable, oþer capstan to clyppe to her ankrez, Hurrok, oþer hande-helme hasped on roþer, Oþer any sweande sayl to seche after hauen."
"For when þat þe Helle herde þe houndez of heuen, He watz ferlyly fayn, vnfolded bylyue; Þe grete barrez of þe abyme he barst vp at onez, Þat alle þe regioun torof in riftes ful grete, & clouen alle in lyttel cloutes þe clyffez aywhere, As lauce leuez of þe boke þat lepes in twynne."
"SIÞEN þe sege and þe assaut watz sesed at Troye, Þe borȝ brittened and brent to brondeȝ and askez,"
"Bot of alle þat here bult, of Bretaygne kynges, Ay watz Arthur þe hendest, as I haf herde telle."
"And also an oþer maner meued him eke, Þat he þurȝ nobelay had nomen he wolde neuer ete Upon such a dere day er hym deuised were Of sum auenturus þyng an vncouþe tale Of sum mayn meruayle þat he myȝt trawe Of of alderes of armes of oþer auenturus."
"Wheþer hade he no helme ne hawbergh nauþer, Ne no pysan ne no plate þat pented to armes, Ne no schafte ne no schelde to schwue ne to smyte, Bot in his on honde he hade a holyn bobbe, Þat is grattest in grene when greuez ar bare, And an ax in his oþer, a hoge and vnmete, A spetos sparþe to expoun in spelle, quoso myȝt. Þe lenkþe of an elnȝerde þe large hede hade."
"What is þis arthures hous quoþ þe haþel þenne Þat al þe rous rennes of þurȝ ryalmes so mony Where is now your sourquydrye and your conquestes Your gry dellayk and your greme and your grete wordes Now is þe reuel and þe renoun of þe rounde table Ouerwalt wyth a worde of on wyȝes speche For al dares for drede withoute dynt schewed"
"After crystenmasse com þe crabbed lentoun Þat fraystez flesch wyth þe fysche and fode more symple. Bot þenne þe weder of þe worlde wyth wynter hit þrepez, Colde clengez adoun, cloudez vplyften, Schyre schedez þe rayn in schowrez ful warme, Fallez vpon fayre flat, flowrez þere schewen, Boþe groundez and þe greuez grene ar her wedez, Bryddez busken to bylde, and bremlych syngen For solace of þe softe somer þat sues þerafter Bi bonk."
"For werre wrathed hym not so much þat wynter nas wors, When þe colde cler water fro þe cloudez schadde, And fres er hit falle myȝt to þe fale erþe; Ner slayn wyth þe slete he sleped in his yrnes Mo nyȝtez þen innoghe in naked rokkez, Þer as claterande fro þe crest þe colde borne rennez, And henged heȝe ouer his hede in hard iisse-ikkles."
"Bi a mounte on þe morne meryly he rydes Into a forest ful dep, þat ferly watz wylde, Hiȝe hillez on vche a halue, and holtwodez vnder Of hore okez ful hoge a hundreth togeder; Þe hasel and þe haȝþorne were harled al samen, With roȝe raged mosse rayled aywhere, With mony bryddez vnblyþe vpon bare twyges, Þat pitosly þer piped for pyne of þe colde."
"We lorde quoþ þe gentyle knyȝt Wheþer þis be þe grene chapelle? He myȝt aboute mydnyȝt Þe dele his matynnes telle."
"I sende hir to asay þe, and sothly me þynkkez On þe fautlest freke þat euer on fote ȝede; As perle bi þe quite pese is of prys more, So is Gawayn, in god fayth, bi oþer gay knyztez."
Heute, am 12. Tag schlagen wir unser Lager in einem sehr merkwürdig geformten Höhleneingang auf. Wir sind von den Strapazen der letzten Tage sehr erschöpft, das Abenteuer an dem großen Wasserfall steckt uns noch allen in den Knochen. Wir bereiten uns daher nur ein kurzes Abendmahl und ziehen uns in unsere Kalebassen-Zelte zurück. Dr. Zwitlako kann es allerdings nicht lassen, noch einige Vermessungen vorzunehmen. 2. Aug.
- Das Tagebuch
Es gab sie, mein Lieber, es gab sie! Dieses Tagebuch beweist es. Es berichtet von rätselhaften Entdeckungen, die unsere Ahnen vor langer, langer Zeit während einer Expedition gemacht haben. Leider fehlt der größte Teil des Buches, uns sind nur 5 Seiten geblieben.
Also gibt es sie doch, die sagenumwobenen Riesen?
Weil ich so nen Rosenkohl nicht dulde!
- Zwei außer Rand und Band
Und ich bin sauer!