Sometimes even I'm starting to talk English when I think again that there is no one or anything.
This is only logical, because we speak English really only to his confusion to be a linguistically congenial expression whether of things.
The syntax of this language is indeed usually have a reason to pity; but not enough, who studied more closely still the vocabulary notice easy to see that here quite often the semantic limit is clearly exceeded.
You can always say things you did not say, and those who did not want to say.
In language games and four pints and three gin tonics that's part quite fun; but overall here wears a rather worrisome too many Kommunikanden in too many situations too heavy shoe.
I draw me, yes, from time to time to when I worth it, considering that I am, no matter how understood or not understood, can not be called as a fully responsible.
And so that no one has a chance against it.
Who wants to prove when I start it sent, if I set the second or seventh word meaning, not just the homonym endeavors, in its fourth meaning, you sly Meier me !?
You can write sensible things in English, of course. If you really want it and very deliberately starts, one can formulate unambiguous sentences. This is true when the facts are somewhat more complex, as measured by, the Deutsches associated mentioned syntactic disability, alswelche to many artifices like force, but can not escape entirely that a more correct of matched in all the thoughtful way thought but some on a holographic imaging level of skilled set out to be perhaps a Show manner could find.
One of the best jokes in my private treasure is about the simple, so often asked question: "Can you English?"
I do not know how many times I would have ever five syllables so often not nearly zutode laughed, how about those.
The hardest part is when a simple "clearly Na!" Says.
Physically, I have the reaction now well under control; the fits of laughter I abtrainiert me using a excellent gurus; the synaptic flashes, however, which, depending on the questioner and respondent, the special situation, my current idiosyncrasy, still like race through parts of the brain, allzumal, though still both afterwards speak what they think respectively for English, yes, these neural Jostling I sometimes still not fully under control.
Let us simplify the matter again on a philosophical kind.
1. One can speak enough english to buy beer and hashish, the hotel is not destroyed by cockroaches and also not the first hijacker negligence to fall into their hands.
2. It is enough English to work on a machine at market rates herumzuschakalen, reasonably maintained a dinner to be able to bring under medium flat heads behind.
3. One can invent and enough English to tell people things that seem so at first, as though they could not be explained in English.
In the first category, there are a few billion people, in the second a few million, and in the third, almost none.
Associations to the billions and a majority of the millions of times a while the mouth, who knows, maybe it would slowly get better.
But such a man would be unethical experiment, no question.
It would take a really great writer with great courage for renewing language arts.
A Scot could make it to you.
Or, most likely, a northerner.
He will have to be a revolutionary Prosodiker and Syntaktiker that uses deepest etymological knowledge.
Underneath there is nothing.
I do not make Luckily it.
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@ Dude
Yeats' lament is not bad.
But that is not enough by far.
Why not?
@ Dude
First, Yeats complains only and shows no perspective on.
Second, you notice immediately how many lines he had to force.
Third, what follows not only from the Second, but also from its wooden often to be mentioned choice of words, he finds no overall rhythm of a higher vibration mode.
It's certainly better than what most are able to deliver.
Sounds a bit like it but a Milton imprints on the way to Crowley without its humor.
The Never, ever is not enough.
Decadent lament the decadence.
And because the patient will recover.
Yeats is hereby but not a bad example of how it sure can not.
It is a lyrical prose require, and not a prosaic poetry reared.
I mean.
Who knows how it could go.
At the close of it, only the first know who sets it to the factory.
That's what I call Tacheles! :-)
Apparently, my English is so much remains to be lame, even if I speak better than many, and I should devote myself more fully to the High German ... ... not a bad idea.
LG
@ Dude
Because I'm just in a good mood, I try to explain it you still analog.
"There I was, ah
And stabbed me in the Hach
Gone was because Ezekiel
Not repairing my vehicle
Its not even ergründt me
Lacked equal Fünfe the Pfünd
Scrape Swabia
That was all his trench!
Let not any Hesiod Hosanna
He stole my all my Mannah
So I torft because in a barren heath
Schlorft there littered with grief
While he was still me, frankly!
Each straight syllable stolen.
Träf I 'him only
The crooked dog
And wot what to say
Yes!
So she went round! "
Thanks for the trouble you,
But the content was previously versed in harness,
Especially since my English is not the rosiest really,
And I shit on alsomit sauce.
:-)
No, really now, although I understand almost everything, but I get by probably still not in the 3rd group.
Sorry but also.
LG
@ Dude
Who understood what I said is already on the way to the third group.