Translation of Ancient Epigrams
From Latin, Greek, to English presses,
‘tis rare that e’er the pith impresses.
Th’original oft effervesces
with sparkle, spite, delight, mistresses,
Spartan prowess, Roman fortresses,
maids like Mycilla, bought braids, tresses.
Who, living, the true jest possesses,
is past: - and all the rest is guesses.
Most amateur attempts are messes,
betray the sense, so each depresses.
Stray copies seldom seem successes,
translation tritely turned distresses,
and everybody who professes
ability thereat the less is!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Come Live with Me and Be My Love Parody IV Resumé Christopher MARLOWE
Marlowe’s swain bestows caresses
And promises on shepherdesses.
Clasps of amber, young lambs’ fleeces,
gay gloss of gold, once told, impresses.
Pretty lass her love professes
‘til he his poverty confesses.
Herrick carelessly expresses
the surest secrets and successes
of courtship and polite addresses
with damsels in diaph’nous dresses.
He feeds them filberts, kids’ tongues, cresses,
in silver streams they steep fair tresses.
Compare these themes to Cecil Lewis,
‘side sour canals his soul digresses, -
chance employment’s dour duresses,
the docks’ dark entries and egresses.
Come care, wreathed wrinkles, deep distresses,
work wasting woman’s lovelinesses.
Sir Walter’s earnest warning is
As good as any other guesses.
Barren lords and Baronesses
slumber soon in tombed recesses.
As Time arrests vain pride, prowesses,
the moral is: mistrust mistresses!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Brother's Reply
Sister, fie, for shame, no more,
Give this ignorant babble o'er,
Nor with little female pride
Things above your sense deride.
Why this foolish under-rating
Of my first attempts at Latin?
Know you not each thing we prize
Does from small beginnings rise?
'Twas the same thing with your writing,
Which you now take such delight in.
First you learnt the down-stroke line,
Then the hair-stroke thin and fine,
Then a curve, and then a better,
Till you came to form a letter;
Then a new task was begun,
How to join them two in one;
Till you got (these first steps past)
To your fine text-hand at last.
So though I at first commence
With the humble accidence,
And my study's course affords
Little else as yet but words,
I shall venture in a while
At construction, grammar, style,
Learn my syntax, and proceed
Classic authors next to read,
Such as wiser, better, make us,
Sallust, Phædrus, Ovid, Flaccus:
All the poets (with their wit),
All the grave historians writ,
Who the lives and actions show
Of men famous long ago;
Even their very sayings giving
In the tongue they used when living.
Think not I shall do that wrong
Either to my native tongue,
English authors to despise,
Or those books which you so prize;
Though from them awhile I stray,
By new studies called away,
Them when next I take in hand,
I shall better understand.
For I've heard wise men declare
Many words in English are
From the Latin tongue derived,
Of whose sense girls are deprived
'Cause they do not Latin know.-
But if all this anger grow
From this cause, that you suspect
By proceedings indirect,
I would keep (as misers pelf)
All this learning to myself;
Sister, to remove this doubt,
Rather than we will fall out,
(If our parents will agree)
You shall Latin learn with me.
poem by Charles Lamb
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I can fairly be called an amateur because I do what I do, in the original sense of the word - for love, because I love it. On the other hand, I think that those of us who make our living writing history can also be called true professionals.
quote by David McCullough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Necessary Are Gifted Teachers
the ability to learn
to learn effectively
under any teacher
in spite of the teacher
is a rare precious ability
such exceptional motivation
such exceptional ability is rare
privilege to teach such students
is one true reward for teachers
most students need good teachers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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oh yes, Mr. Shaun, the Bible was not written in English
The Gospel of Christ and, in general,
the Holy Bible are written with the inspiration of God.
The Prophets and the Apostles
have recorded in written form
a portion of the oral teaching of the Old Testament
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
These are the original languages of the Holy Bible from' which all the translations have been derived. God's inspiration is confined to the original languages and utterances, not the many translations. There are 1,300 languages and dialects into which the Holy Bible, in its entirety or in portions, has been
translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.
This does not mean that the translations do not convey the meaning of the Bible for spiritual uprightness of the readers in their own language. On the contrary the Bible should be spread and preached to 'all nations'. The missionaries in foreign lands learn the language or the dialect of. the new area into which they bring the Bible and other religious teachings. For example, the missionaries from Constantinople, Saints Cyril and Methodios, sent to Christianize the Slavic peoples in the 9th century, first translated the Bible and the ritual books into the language of the people.
yes, Mr. Shaun, my friend the Bible was not written in English.IT was written in HEBREW, ARAMAIC, and GREEK....
But i like it written in English too, how i wish it were written in such a
language,
with a sense of class
and fashionable disguise,
for without it, how could i ever understand, God,
oh, my, God!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Copies
Duplicate, triplicate, quadruplicate!
I still have the original message to you all;
For i have created three works to satisfy my muse.
My breasts are very small in size,
But you will love me for what i am;
And like making a woman pregnant at the right time,
However, this original message is for you only.
The words from a wise man's mouth are very precious!
And wisdom gives light to those who have it;
So keep the first 10 cents from your Dollar to the Creator,
And the second 10 cents to the Bank!
Then enjoy the rest on the days ahead of you;
For, i am at the Donkey Island with my love.
Copies!
With many of them in this world to respect my muse;
But i am a woman and i need love from you,
Because, i do have the original message to satisfy all the copies around!
And, at the end of the day, be very wise to understand my muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Indomitable Will To Survive
Conditions in
the Warsaw ghetto;
inhuman Nazi
extermination camps;
proved that not
everyone possesses
raw ability to suicide;
a few will fight
struggle to survive
indefinitely regardless;
in spite of heinous
cruelty deprivations;
humiliations in which
systematically tormented;
as victims of an insidious
calculated abhorred evil;
individuals without
hope have historically
found themselves in;
during eras of oppression
raw need will to survive
surpasses all boundaries;
all oppression in rare
individuals of indomitable will;
exceptional rare human beings
who can never roll over and die;
supreme testament to faith
courage no satanic demon can break;
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Of Dimitrios Sotir
Everything he'd hoped for turned out wrong.
He'd seen himself doing great things,
ending the humiliation that had kept his country down
ever since the battle of Magnesia
seen himself making Syria a powerful state again,
with her armies, her fleets,
her big fortresses, her wealth.
He'd suffered in Rome, become bitter
when he sensed in the talk of friends,
young men of the great families,
that in spite of all their delicacy, their politeness
toward him, the son
of King Selefkos Philopator-
when he sensed that in spite of this there was always
a secret contempt for the Hellenized dynasties:
their heyday was over, they weren't fit for anything serious,
were completely unable to rule their peoples.
He'd cut himself off, indignant, swearing
it would be quite different from the way they thought.
Why, wasn't he himself full of determination?
He would act, he would fight, he would put it all right again.
If he could only find a way of getting to the East,
only manage to escape from Italy,
then all this inner strength,
all this energy,
he'd pass on to his people.
Only to be in Syria!
He was so young when he left his country
he hardly remembered what it looked like.
But in his mind he'd always thought of it
as something sacred that you approach reverently,
as a beautiful place unveiled, a vision
of Greek cities and Greek ports.
And now?
Now despair and sorrow.
They were right, the young men in Rome.
The dynasties resulting from the Macedonian Conquest
can't be kept going any longer.
It doesn't matter. He'd made the effort,
fought as much as he could.
And in his bleak disillusion
there's only one thing in which he still takes pride:
that even in failure
he shows the world his same indomitable courage.
The rest: they were dreams and wasted energy.
This Syria -it almost seems it isn't his country
this Syria is the land of Valas and Herakleidis.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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You have the right to feel, you are successful
Success, sweet success
Success, it is waiting for you
To own and hold on to it
Success of any kind
Has easy access
If you are after it restlessly
Success is not indeed the end
It is the beginning of a
New chain of successes
Simple it is to be successful
So simple, you wonder how many of us are not at it
It all depends on what you feel
Success means to you
You may school your thoughts
And train your emotions
To feel successful on everything
That happens around you
Your retention of all your
Physical, mental and social abilities
Is indeed your success
Your ability to make friends
And help them out in times of need
Is indeed your success
Your ability to keep your cool
In emotionally competing events
And situations
Is indeed your success
Your ability to make your ends meet
Come over challenges, emotional or otherwise
At the right time and in a rightful manner
Is indeed a success
Your ability to stand up
And hold on to your values
Is indeed a success
Your ability to be able to
Discharge your assigned responsibilities
Is indeed your success
Your ability to objectively assess
People and events
Without painting them subjectively
Is indeed your success
Your ability to stay most of your time positive
Progressive and productive
Creative and innovative
Is indeed your success
Your ability to hold on to
Your original traits
Without succumbing to the temptations
Of becoming someone else
Is indeed your success
If this forms your scale to measure success
You have the right to feel
You are successful
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Roman Showers
Roman showers pouring on me.
My chest is filled with joy so hotly.
I love this scene so lush and thick just like a dream.
When it comes it fills a need.
A deep desire on which I feed.
It's quite beautiful but so taboo.
Why don't you come and join me too?
Let us pass in roman showers,
spilling all that we've devoured.
Sharing this will give such power.
Though some will say that it's so dour.
Don't listen to them for they are sour.
When it pours down on your face.
For everythingelse you'll lose your taste.
It gives you a feeling of such delight.
You're washed away of judging spite.
So let us partake of it this night.
Roman showers showing us brand new heights.
poem by Michael McParland
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True art selects and paraphrases, but seldom gives a verbatim translation.
quote by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Benedicts
Original Latin lyrics:
Benedictus qui est venit
In nomine Domine
In nomine
In nomine
In nomine Domine
In nomine Domine
In nomine
In nomine
In nomine Domine
English translation:
Blessed are those who have come
In the name of the Lord
In the name
In the name
In the name of the Lord
In the name of the Lord
In the name
In the name
In the name of the Lord
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was Written
It was written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin!
Because, the English language was not spoken by then;
And like the muse of your love which is now exposed to all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Maghe
The Roman god Janus,
The Roman goddess Februa,
The Roman god of war (Mars) !
The Greek goddess of love (Aphrodite) ,
The Roman goddess of growth (Maia) ,
And Juno, the goddess of women, marriages and childbirth! !
Learn from them to know the wife of Jupiter as well;
For, we are all being saurrounded by the works of the gods and the goddesses!
The Germanic languages,
I am Maghe with the works of the secret codes of life in the land of the living;
But, very quick and eloquent is the muse of my love!
And like the acts of the god Woden in the alnd of many rivers.
The god Thunor (Thor) and the goddess Frigg,
With Old Norse like Venus the goddess of love!
But, try to learn from the old facts to push ahead with the truth always;
For, we are blindfolded to the secrets of this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The amateur is very rare in French literature - as rare as he is common in our own.
quote by Lytton Strachey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stress Is Kept As It Depresses
A kept stress depresses.
And to confess it isn't the best thing to do...
If one is trying to prove,
They can be super human too.
Some folks brag about what they can do,
When stressed.
As if happiness and getting rest...
Is something to detest.
And these same people,
Complain about having a loss of time.
They can't seem to find any of it,
To relax and ease their minds.
But stress is kept as it depresses.
As people care less to openly profess,
What a doctor has prescribed...
As a remedy to recommend and suggest.
Yet those who believe,
Others they must impress...
Are often those left alone,
With physical and mental issues...
A discomforting breakdown has forced them to address.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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History
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I started to explore every possibility
Since she gave a kiss to me
The strength of her appeal
Lies in her ability
To keep a sense of mystery
She made my senses real
When she gave a kiss to me
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I feel like I'm the deal
Since she gave a kiss to me
It felt like electricity
Her lips gave me sensations
Full of authenticity
When she gave a kiss to me
Her kiss had such effect
'cos of it's simplicity
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I started to explore every possibility
Since she gave a kiss to me
The strength of her appeal
Lies in her ability
To keep a sense of mystery
She made my senses real
When she gave a kiss to me
She made the others history-ac
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where words can be translated into equivalent words, the style of an original can be closely followed; but no translation which aims at being written in normal English can reproduce the style of Aristotle.
quote by Gilbert Murray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Irish-English
Having stolen all the goods and gone,
The English are back in Ireland
Seeking the good of man
In folksong of the past.
Irish in acadamia
Have left the country behind
Preferring to live where the air comes in,
Leave the stench to the English mind.
It's neither one thing nor another
But a blend that works the best.
But when it comes to English-Irish
The latter think the opposite's blessed.
Living by the nostrils the Irish whiff the past,
'The English they can have it. By the future we are cast.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Translating love
Oh, how to report to truth
the many shades of love?
Saint Bernard of Clairvaux,
monk of a silent order
writing what he could not speak,
writes of love for brother monks
without embarrassment;
expatiates upon the Song of Songs,
erotic metaphor, with passionate, pure heart;
finds so many Latin terms
for all the shades of love,
of which we can translate to English speech
but a modest few – love, delight, affection, charity,
true friendliness; the glowing heart…
Then, pen laid down, the saint
returns to narrow cell – and love:
in silence, stillness, solitude,
pursues translation's lifelong art,
but now beyond all words;
holy love into the human heart.
Oh, how to report to truth
the many shades of love..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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