Literature:ToySoldiers/Brooding

Raapthingi Itskoongathee — Toy Soldiers

Yeethai walder staishlaw ga, tlande iskoon fashbaw thloolm, Oosenflaukh chaeg awde nal, tlande aahuhngtagaa raapthingi basheln, Aazraw saesh ga dema bashen aidoogren awtluh otlai baeyaa, Mauluhmpeed ese olsenraapaa kothai stoob nalee ga.	Beneath the wide sky where the autumn winds play, A boy knelt in soil, where his soldiers lay. From the box at his side, he cast them around, A scatter of warriors upon the dirt mound.
Wendesketleste oosenmelkeeyor Maudaegeed, Yelzos yuhneechaw, Oot chaeg mauyaindnaakee ga aagraagen awtluht otlai doo. “Felde raapthingi,” awkan bashen “aacheshlabroot aw rawf tluhl, Thoowen aw paashleh basheln, thoowen otlai induhtlooh.”	Disorder reigned first, a chaos untamed, Yet the boy, undeterred, would see it reframed. “For soldiers,” he said, “must stand in their line, Each in their station, each by design.”
Bashen eethaes ebri wendeskewen ga, Kadreehwik ga, draugeyeewen ga, Awlbramool ese khawshaw thleez aw droogfik ga, Raile de igen uhrawf ga, tichee kuhbaang aw ro, otlai ootshawkes yuhneeluhmpee e etzawg thoo.	He reached for the first, the Private, the least, A bearer of burdens, a cog in the beast. These men hold the line, with rifles in hand, The steadfast foundation of any command.