tlhIngan-Hol Archive: Mon Apr 29 07:05:37 1996

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EULOGY IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER




This morning knocks the postman at my door,
Compels me cursing from my dreamy bed,
Then stumble I unwilling down the stair,
Full bleary-eyed do fling the portal wide.
<nuqneH> I snarl, and curl my sneering lip.
"A parcel for you, luv, sign here," he says.
"It must be HAMLET - <toH> - I cry, and he
Goes on his way, spurned by my jovial boot.
Then whipping out my knife I cut the tape, 
Tear ope the packet, and there HAMLET lies.
A Book, a Book most palpable - and fill'd
With words - in English and in <tlhIngan Hol>, 
Most fair to read - a challenge to us all.

Now honour we the makers of this tome,
Warriors of words, this happy happy band,
Nick Nicholas and Andrew Strader first,
Then Shoulson (Mark), Will Martin, d'Armond Speers,
Next noble Lawrence Shoen, who Sarah fair
(A scion of the House of Ekstrom) did assist,
The whiles coordinating all.  And now,
I from this Sceptre'd Isle, do honour too
Marc Okrand, tow'ring over all, save him - 
Mythmaker, master, goodly Will Shakespeare.

Let those here mention'd feast at festive board,
For HAMLET to the <Hol> is full restor'd.
Yet lonely on the shelf he lacks a fellow -
What say you, friends?  a Klingon Moor OTHELLO?

(I should have writ in Klingon, proud and free.
 Let this be my excuse: KLBC)


Congratulations to all.  'Tis fair, 'tis passing fair...


Sov polwI'


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