Ne sorga, snotor guma sélre bið aéghwaém Þæt hé his fréond wrece Þonne hé fela murne (Beowulf) A way a lone a lost a last a loved a long the (Finnegans Wake) pues no fui a Gibraltar porque me mareo en los autobuses … [Leer más...]
476.28-36 Los cuatro adoran al niño va a despertar, cual si fueran reyes magos
More than their good share of their five senses ensorcelled you would say themselves were, fuming censor, the way they could not rightly tell their heels from their stools as they cooched down a mamalujo by his cubical crib, as … [Leer más...]