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CUBA IS THE FUTURE FOR LATIN AMERICA AND PERHAPS THE WORLD

CUBA IS THE FUTURE FOR LATIN AMERICA AND PERHAPS THE WORLD On my way out of Cuba, from La Habana, on COPA airlines flight to Panama, I w...

mardi 2 octobre 2012

2.10.12 PALINDROME MALAYALAM

If I had not any connections with Cochin in India, I might not have known early enough what a Palindrome was nor heard of the language of the region, Malayalam, which is one of the few languages, a palindrome..
Today while writing the date, the english style we are used to, 2nd october 12, 2.10.12, I noticed that was a palindrome.


Don't nod
Dogma: I am God
Never odd or even
Too bad – I hid a boot
Rats live on no evil star
No trace; not one carton
Was it Eliot's toilet I saw?
Murder for a jar of red rum
May a moody baby doom a yam?
Go hang a salami; I'm a lasagna hog!
Satan, oscillate my metallic sonatas!
A Toyota! Race fast... safe car: a Toyota
Straw? No, too stupid a fad; I put soot on warts
Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?
Doc Note: I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod
No, it never propagates if I set a gap or prevention
Anne, I vote more cars race Rome to Vienna
Sums are not set as a test on Erasmus
Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak
Some men interpret nine memos
Campus Motto: Bottoms up, Mac
Go deliver a dare, vile dog!
Madam, in Eden I'm Adam
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
Ah, Satan sees Natasha
Lisa Bonet ate no basil
Do geese see God?
God saw I was dog
Dennis sinned



These are some of the Palindromes I found on the Net.


I hope it brings a smile on the faces of some of the readers. Then I thought of American Indians, are there languages, living or extinct, that are Palindromes?

Alistair Reid, the wonderful translator of Pablo Neruda was fond of a Palindrome and he defined a Palindrome,  his quest in a sentence, as this:

The dream which preoccupies the tortuous mind of every palindromist is that somewhere within the confines of the language lurks the Great Palindrome, a nutshell which not only fulfils the intricate demands of the art, flowing sweetly in both directions, but which also contains the Final Truth of Things.
 

Reid's longest creation was:
T. Eliot, top bard, notes putrid tang emanating, is sad. I'd assign it a name: 'Gnat dirt upset on drab pot toilet'.


what all happens in the course of the day, the postman does not ring any more, kisses are goobled up by the mistiness of forgetting, whatever happend to the girl who gave me this book as a gift?
when was that? where was that?