Britannia
In Insular Brythonic mythology, and especially in Britain, Britannia was the patron goddess of the early British Celtic tribes. In more recent tradition, she is viewed as the personification of Great Britain, and appeared on the penny coin between 1797 and 1970, and on the 50 pence coin since 1969.
Classical Romans referred to the island of Britain and to the various administrative provinces they set up there using the name Britannia.
Britannia is also the name of a charter airline company that flies out of London, Liverpool and Manchester to many sunspots worldwide. It uses Boeing 757 and 767 planes to transport its passengers.
Britannia was the British royal yacht between 1953 and 1997. She is now an exhibition ship moored at Leith, Edinburgh, Scotland.
External link
Britannia web site (http://www.royalyachtbritannia.co.uk)And bird cries and fairy-tale books.
The sky.html">sky is like a blue jellyfish.
Peaceful world, you great mousetrap,
One plays dice. Guzzles. Chatters about future countries.
The earth is a succulent Sunday roast,
If only there were a wind... that ripped
But if a storm comes... It would shred
I can no longer find a place for my eyes.
My heart.html">heart is hollow. My head is going to burst.
My tongue breaks. And my mouth twists.
The sun, a buttercup, rocks itself
The day is ruined. The sky is drunk.
Of chopped up light.html">light lie around and reveal
Everything else is rotten and devoured
Falls down and is rotten. And the rain
As though the whole contaminated darkness
Down in a swamp you see an auto flash,
The oldest whores come crawling
There goes one creeping by. Over there a pig is being stabbed.
But you are wandering through the waste lands.
Your eye is mad with greed and screaming.
Perhaps in the midst of dark fire
Perhaps something completely horrible,
The deserted streets flow in gleaming light
I clearly feel that I shall soon slip away--
The night grows moldy. The poison light of the lampposts
My heart is like a bag. My blood freezes.
Without horror you devour dead flesh every day.
Aren't you afraid?--
And before you awoke,
An animal have been--
What could jump and cry out and in the moment of death
In a moment
Many sick people are walking in the garden
Those who are the sickest burn with fever
Grave of their beds.
Around wearily in black clothes.
In the city Fasching is begin celebrated.
.
On
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