Nowhere in Ozghard is the written word more highly celebrated than in the Calda Country of the South. Perhaps driven by its enduring fascination with beauty in general, Calda culture has produced more novelists, poets, and playwrights than the rest of Ozghard combined.
What follows is a typical example of a shavor, a seven-line poem consisting of three rhyming couplets and some sort of repetition on the seventh line, the shaves. Immediately following the poem is a line-by-line translation into English.
Alesheho se le Jyh Af
Rilo afes se af avyn relavo, ajol leny she novy.
Leshy af qy afes avy Aveho she nashah, avyn ovy.
Avyn she leqy afy, nefel res o afavan se afesaf.
Ileh afes se nefeshy rev ashulesy she neven le af.
Aleho af se le neven af o yh rano shel avanafy.
Ileh vo'afal, Asholo? Alesheho se le jyh af nafy.
Alesheho se le jyh af. Alesheho se le jyh af nafy.
Let Me Forget
You rouse me in the dead of night, though I remain asleep.
I walk with you through the infinite Void, in the depths.
As we go, time falls away and loses its meaning.
You show me creatures with impossible forms.
I realize that I am impossible and the world is made of lies.
Why have you shown me this, Athròlu? Let me forget please.
Let me forget. Let me forget please.
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