föstudagur, maí 20, 2005
kór
Baroque horns and singing from over the hill, many voices, and in the summer-seeming air, you think of the Sunday bells of Háteigskirkja. Now the voices sing hallelujah, hallelujah with a plaintive fall of notes, a minor key, a rising quaver. Háteigskirkja vanishes from the mind's eye, replaced with the thought of haugfólk at worship. They use the same book, after all. Well, the first part, anyway.
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If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were calling us poor goyim tusser.
(And isn't "Hallelujah" a loanword?)
Tvert i mot, tvert i mot! Mound-dwellers are per definitio of an earlier cultural stratum ... but as for hallelujah, yes, a borrowing. For the purists there is always hurrah.
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