translated text of automatic form

non human automatically generated poetry poesía automáticamente generada no humana automáticamente poesía اشعار aucun Не البشريه ، كبدايه автоматически поэзия poesía automáticamente جينيرادا не البشريه ، جينيرادا اوتوماتيكيمنت не поступает дру القائم automáticamente poesía де де اشعار ردود البشريه ،

31.3.07

art of war 2007, regiment59, squadron73

because in war he who seeks the night asks the sun asks the sun asks the sun and one

terminating emptiness with the regrets on lifetimes spent on drinking the wine of gods on the first trenches the soldiers whose acid temples ran out of duty were urged towards the end of the battle arrays arrays but not one and the sun

because in war he who knows how to temperate with the clouds will find refuge indicated through not three hundred summaries and four thousand six hundred seventy three cavalry officers sinecure of the deaf whose hooves trampling pounding the place on which he only man could trample pound respond to the orders as he only man would ask

he engaging in fighting against the relentless evermultiplied strategically enhanced weaponry of the mountain with tired arms will unnecessarily spoil ammunitions on firing without breath mercy gazing at the stars time stopping pause targets whose motion accustomed to the earth's rotation on a daily three hundred and sixty five daily habit will possibly with chance lift them above the surface hence reducing the probability of efficient aim

thus when engaging in fighting against the relentless evermultiplied strategically enhanced weaponry of the mountain with tired arms do not seek for a line of fire composed in blue and shades of deep red but hide your men in the disguise of the lush soil and shit of the mud over brambles

and deceive remaining enemy vacant by staring into what as you unload your master's face with sudden pressure of meat and clay

deceive by trusting your enemy

deceive by trusting your enemy

rule number four ask sirens shrieking mercy masts dripping with wax for devices on the way to victory which traveller turned right make a pretense of disorder

make a pretense of disorder

make a pretense of disorder

AND CRUSH HIM

[NOTE]
(this is not a translation. this is wolf, atemporal warrior, letting its mind roam the battlefields of SUN TZU, who will hereby get posthumously credited for having allowed the best and the worse to go to war prepared)
(and so whall i)

(and so shall we)

4 Ummæli:

Blogger Lazare sagði...

so shall we all, wolf

GREAT TO HAVE YOU HERE

during these war times

[cryptogrammrésistance cell]

31. mars 2007 kl. 09:21  
Blogger junior sagði...

You are welcome.

1. apríl 2007 kl. 03:03  
Blogger Russell CJ Duffy sagði...

hell hath no wolf!?
x

2. apríl 2007 kl. 03:07  
Blogger Wolf sagði...

CJ: ah ah you fucking BET !!!!!!
nothing to do with scorn or personnal outrage though, i'm UNIVERSAL ANGER INCARNATE !!!

2. apríl 2007 kl. 05:01  

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