Odin’s beard and breath, as delimitations and start conditions. How a god pierced his flesh, suspending the difference between languages. The yak, also, can create a language with its axe. But it cannot perform the sonata of interpretation. A regular expression gnaws, as a worm gnaws, at the root of Yggdrasil. Splitting fragrant sentences into stems or tokens or nodes. The fruit, then, is not an apple but a pomegranate, brimming with dour seeds. This figure, this rune that flows with canticles and grammar. The wound of analysis and the bloody yield of abstraction, sowing the meadows with vinegar and insight, facts and mildew.