what a busy day !!

hfftt...
i hate these days, those are full of assignment. every subject has so many homework that should have been finished in a week, and make my own daily journal like this. also i have to do household ; washing the dishes,  iron, and cooking food every day
however, i need to take a rest, have a relax time, go sopping or do something fun with my friend or family. no time for it, unfortunately :(
wish i have more spirit for tomorrow. fighting!!!!

Beowulf

8th Century

Then he saw, hanging on the wall, a heavy
Sword, hammered by giants, strong
And blessed with their magic, the best of all weapons
But so massive that no ordinary man could lift
Its carved and decorated length. He drew it
From its scabbard, broke the chain on its hilt,
And then, savage, now, angry
And desperate, lifted it high over his head
And struck with all the strength he had left,
Caught her in the neck and cut it through,
Broke bones and all. Her body fell
To the floor, lifeless, the sword was wet
With her blood, and Beowulf rejoiced at the sight. ...
He...went walking, his hands tight on the sword,
His heart still angry. He ... took his weapon with him
For final revenge against Grendel's vicious
Attacks, his nighttime raids, over
And over, coming to Heorot when Hrothgar's
Men slept, killing them in their beds,
Eating some on the spot, fifteen
Or more, and running to his loathsome moor
With another such sickening meal waiting
In his pouch. But Beowulf repaid him...struck off
His head with a single swift blow. The body
Jerked for the last time, then lay still. ...
All that Beowulf took
Was Grendel's head and the hilt of the giants'
Jeweled sword; the rest of that ring-marked
Blade had dissolved in Grendel's steaming
Blood, boiling even after his death.
And then the battle's only survivor
Swam up and away from those silent corpses. ...

Divine Comedy

Dante Alighieri, 14th Century


"Through me the way is to the City of Woe:
Through me the way into the eternal pain;
Through me the way among the lost below....
Relinquish all hope, ye who enter here.
These words, of a dim color, I espied
Written above the lintel of a door.
Whereat: "Master, the sense is hard," I cried.
And he, as one experienced in that lore:
"Here all misgiving must thy mind reject.
Here cowardice must die and be no more...."
Here lamentation, groans, and wailings deep
Reverberated through the starless air,
So that it made me at the beginning weep.
Uncouth tongues, horrible shriekings of despair,
Shrill and faint voices, cries of pain and rage,
And, with it all, smiting of hands, were there,
Making a tumult, nothing could assuage,
To swirl in the air that knows not day or night,
Like sand within the whirlwind's eddying cage.
And I, whose mind failed to discern aright,
Said: "Master, what is it that my ear affrays?
Who are these that seem so crushed beneath their plight?"
And he to me: "These miserable ways
The forlorn spirits endure of those who spent
Life without infamy and without praise.
They are mingled with that caitiff regiment
Of the angels, who rebelled not, yet avowed
To God no loyalty, on themselves intent.
Heaven chased them forth, lest their allegiance cloud
Its beauty, and the deep Hell refuses them,
For, beside such, the sinner would be proud."