In the interest of science, I will cipher it out on the hypothesis that it is masculine. Very well - then THE rain is DER Regen, if it is simply in the quiescent state of being.
For instance, the same sound, SIE, means YOU, and it means SHE, and it means HER, and it means IT, and it means THEY, and it means THEM. Think of the ragged poverty of a language which has to make one word do the work.
Of course no bird would do that, but then you must stick to the book. Very well, I begin to cipher out the German for that answer. I begin at the wrong end, necessarily, for that is the German idea.
Yet even the German books are not entirely free from attacks of the Parenthesis distemper - though they are usually so mild as to cover only a few lines, and therefore when you at last get down to the verb it carries some meaning to.
One is washed about in it, hither and thither, in the most helpless way; and when at last he thinks he has captured a rule which offers firm ground to take a rest on amid the general rage and turmoil of the ten parts of.
Now here is a sentence from a popular and excellent German novel - which a slight parenthesis in it. I will make a perfectly literal translation, and throw in the parenthesis-marks and some hyphens for the assistance of the reader - though in the original.
Parentheses in literature and dentistry are in bad taste. The Germans have another kind of parenthesis, which they make by splitting a verb in two and putting half of it at the beginning of an exciting chapter and the OTHER HALF at the end of.
So overboard he goes again, to hunt for another Ararat and find another quicksand. Such has been, and continues to be, my experience. Every time I think I have got one of these four confusing "cases" where I am master of it, a seemingly insignificant.
For instance, my book inquires after a certain bird - (it is always inquiring after things which are of no sort of no consequence to anybody "Where is the bird?" Now the answer to this question - according to the book - is that the.