And this is the writing that was written: Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin. This is the interpretation of the thing:Mene: God hath numbered [menah] thy kingdom, and finished it.Tekel: Thou art weighed [tekiletah] in the balances, and art found wanting.Peres: Thy kingdom is divided [perisath], and given to the Medes and Persians [upharas].
My understanding is that the writing on the wall, unlike William Wright's multilingual hodgepodges, consists entirely of normal Aramaic words, which can be translated literally as "mina, mina, shekel, and half-pieces." A mina is either 50 or 60 shekels, and commentators are divided on whether the "half-pieces" are half-minas or half-shekels, but basically these are all units of weight which, like our English pound, were also used as units of currency. Note that pharsin is the plural of peres, and that u- is a prefix meaning "and."
It doesn't make any sense literally, though. The first three words might mean two minas and a shekel (i.e., either 101 or 121 shekels), but the final word is perplexing. "A shekel and a half" makes sense, but "a shekel and halves"? I don't know anything about Aramaic, but I would be willing to bet that the word upharsin -- "and halves" -- is attested nowhere but in this story. "One and a half" is an understandable quantity; "one and halves" is not.
Daniel therefore turned, as William so often does, to etymology. Mene, tekel, and peres derive from verbs meaning respectively "to count," "to weigh," and "to divide," and it is on these underlying roots that he bases his interpretation. He also uses a non-etymological association -- something like a pun -- to give the final word a double meaning. In addition to its etymological meaning of "to divide," upharsin -- specifically that form of the word, the one with the bizarre meaning "and halves" -- happens to sound an awful lot like "and Persians." These two unrelated readings of upharas are synthesized to produce the final meaning: that the kingdom will be divided between the Medes and Persians.
Isn't that rather similar to the sorts of analyses to which William subjects his "words"? The only thing Daniel failed to do was to try reading the inscription as Elvish rather than Aramaic. Well, better late than never.
The closest Elvish word to mene is menel, "the heavens." Tekel suggests the root tek-, "to write," and tecil, "pen." U- is a prefix in Elvish as well as in Aramaic, and u-par-sin can be read as "bad/difficult to learn in this way." Doesn't that read pretty well as meta-commentary on the whole writing-on-the-wall incident? Daniel specifically said that the hand that wrote the words had been "sent from" the "Lord of heaven" (vv. 23-24). So our Elvish reading goes like this: When God sends a hand from heaven to write your doom on your palace wall, that's learning things the hard way!
As for peres, the other word that appears in Daniel's analysis, it's an Elvish root meaning "affect, trouble, disturb" -- a pretty apt description or Belshazzar's reaction when he saw the hand:
Then the king's countenance was changed, and his thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against another (v. 6).
3 comments:
I really like that Elvish reading/translation you put to the writing on the wall! It's great.
And just to be clear, my approach with those words I sent over - the ones from 2019 - I don't treat as a hodgepodge, but rather as Elvish and English. Meaning, I have translations for all of them that just rely on those languages (with the exception of when German phrases showed up later, but I attribute those to other speakers and maybe a few rare examples of other languages). I've figured the English mixed in is because my mind is involved in the communication, and that is the language I speak, but who knows.
The hodgepodge approach to those words was actually what you put into place when you saw the Chinese phrase Ash-ni that related to your dream, if I remember right. I would take that probably as a double-meaning or probably a 'wink' that there might be something to these words (that is how I take it, at least), but I would still do the primary translations in 'Elvish' and English in trying to understand the phrase.
For the 'syncs' and other things that have shown up in movies, books, etc., I have definitely taken more leeway in using other languages, words, and symbols to derive meaning, but that is a completely different animal anyway.
I see. The only "word" I had previously engaged with was Milkommen, but apparently that's an atypical example.
A lot of your words aren't Elvish or English in any straightforward sense, though, and have to be modified considerably to be read as such. (Ash-ni isn't Elvish as it stands, for instance; ash is, rather, perhaps one of the two most recognizable words of the Black Speech.) My working hypothesis is that that's because other words in other languages are being referenced as well.
It is funny you mention 'ash'. I had a similar response to it.
I actually wrote a post on my findings on my old blog which pre-dated my own experiences and words, when I had been looking into those other books and the Elvish words that appeared in them.
I found that "Ash", curiously enough, appears in Joseph Smith's "Grammar and Alphabet of the Egyptian Language", and there it means "first". Very similar to, or related to, "one" that you find in the Black Speech.
There are ways that "ash" can be an Elvish word and also have a variant found in the Black Speech (and show up in Joseph Smith's stuff).
As for Milkommen, that is a very straightforward Elvish translation:
Mil = gentle, loving, weak
Kom = gather
Men = place or spot (or to go, proceed, arrive, way, road, etc.)
So, maybe something like "gently gather [to] place", or there are a few other variations such as, "a gentle road to gather", "A loving place to gather", or even "The weak/ gentle gather to place". Pretty dead on, and very on theme for what I have been writing about. And it also fits well with the German/English word play I highlighted in the post you got that word from.
The problem usually wasn't that there weren't any Elvish words, but rather too many options, in that one Elvish word or root could have 3-4, or more, different glosses or meanings, and choosing one over another could really change the meaning of a phrase.
I think you should definitely go with your hypothesis and see where it goes - could be an interesting avenue. I was just clarifying that your characterization of the words and my approach in trying to understand them (particularly the 2019 - 2020 words) was not quite correct (Milkommen was from 2022, so different period, and kind of a different experience as well, honestly).
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