In the name of Perkunas, I go forth into to this barren land, with imbecile comrades. Perkunas sent them to me, or me to them, so who am I to question the Thunderer? Nevertheless, my idiot comrades cannot speak the Musical Tongue of Finland; they cannot read or write; they seem to be unaware of the Joy of Cloudberries. They are distracted by the miserable little flies of Asia. When I summoned a Cloud of Mosquitos to entertain everyone in the pub at Astrakhan, why, they seemed to be distressed!
Oh Perkunas!
Velut Lunatics!
Statue of Vegetables!
Simpering Cretins!
Eat their Croissants!
Bleep the depressed Habilis!
What a piece of work is Maiyn, how callow in reason, how infinite in duplicity, infirm and slovenly, how depressed and abominable! Inaction, how like a couch potato! An ape reprehensible, how unlike a god.
Now, the Bear, called Ludde, seems not to be as stupid as the rest. And our charming ox has crocheted me a very fine sweater while the rest were swatting mosquites.
The tea with yak milk was very nice.
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