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Passions in Poetry

Statius' Thebaid

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chopsticks
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The US,


50 posted 11-01-2008 06:40 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks


ď Being difficult, Chopstick's? ď

Heavens no Essorant it was Halloween . Have a butter finger.


Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada


51 posted 11-05-2008 10:30 PM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant



Yet on gray altars blazes burned
But much to sleepy ash are turned,
And holy offerings given there
Extend lukewarmth into the air.
The hearth with rites to burn he bade
And recent feasts again be made.
His ministers with haste had stirred
All earnest to obey his word.
With various tumult all around
The stricken hallways now resound.
Some then equipped the couches there
With purple delicate and fair
And tapestries that sound with gold
Brought in, hung highly to behold.
Some waxed the table smooth and bright
Some strove against the dark of night
Busy and workful, taking pains
To stretch the golden lanternchains.
These work to roast, with spits, with heat,
The beasts of slaughters' bloodless meat,
And these to gather into leaps,
Subdued on rock, high Ceres' heaps.
His house with fervid buxom work
Makes King Adrastus warmly smirk.

And now the king on cushions shone
Ascended on his ivory throne.
The youths apart recline nearby
Having their watered wounds made dry.
Each looks in other's fightbruised face
Sharing thereof forgiving grace.
The longyeared king commanded here
The nurse Acaste to come near,
The nurse and guardian holden true
A helper for his daughters two
To watch their modesty enough
And keep it clean for righteous love,
And murmurs words into her ears
Nor does she tarry as she hears.

Then, soon, stepped forth the maidens twain
Issuing from their bour arcane
With wonderous faces, one might ween
Like armisonant Pallas seen
And quiverbearing Dion, lo,
Minus the terror, both were so.
And shame came o'er the maidens then
To see the faces of the men.
Pallor and rubor e'enly drew
And overhwelmed their cheeks' right hue.
Their eyes, filled with astonishment,
Back to their sacred father bent.

After the tables' course was done
With hunger vanquished well and gone
Then Iasonides' thanes were sent
To fetch his wonted ornament
A perfect bowl, to bring anon,
With signs and shining gold thereon,
The which Danaus used to hold
And whilom too Phoroneus old
Giving their offerings poured thereof,
Libations to the gods above.
Graven in that were figures holden:
Here, seen with wings a youth all golden
And from the corven neck to bear
The Gorgon's head with snakes for hair,
And even now, with no delay,
To wandering airs, he leaps away:
Her heavy eyes she almost lifts,
Her languid face she almost shifts,
And even so, one might behold,
Grows pale within the living gold.
And here the Phrygian hunter caught
On fulvous wings is upwards brought,
Arising higher in the height
Gargara sinking in his sight
And far recedes the land of Troy,
His comrads stand bereft of joy
And hounds in vain tire out with sound
Chasing his shadow on the ground,
With sonant mouths, with din enough
Barking at clouds of heav'n above.
This pouring with the flowing wine,
He calls in order gods divine
The heavendwellers, as is best,
And Phebus calls before the rest.
To Phebus' altar each and all
Comrad and servant, raise a call
In pudic leaves about them bound,
For whom the festive day is found,
And with rich incense high and low
The fumey altars' blazes  glow.


Ceres' heaps: bread
leaps: baskets
rubor: redness
Iasonides: King Adrastus (a descendant of Iason, an earlier king)
Phrygian hunter: Ganymede
pudic: modest, chaste, pure



[This message has been edited by Essorant (11-07-2008 12:45 AM).]

Essorant
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52 posted 11-27-2008 05:12 PM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant



The king then quoth "Maybe, O knights,
Ye wonder at these sacred rites,
What they may be, what they are for,
And why we honour Phoebus more.
'Tis not blind faith that moves us so.
Whilom in great distress and woe
The Argive people sought release
And set these rites to pay for peace.
Advert to me your heart and mind
And let my words the tale unwind.
When deus Phoebus' mighty blow
Laid the cerulean monster low,
With all its sinuous volumes round,
Python, the offspring of the ground,
With swarty circles sevenfold
Surrounding Delphos in its hold
That with its squams had overthrust
And gnidden yeary oaks to dust,
With threecleft tongue outstretched ahead,
By the Castalian fountains' stead,
With venom, and with all its shape,
Was seen to long for food and gape.
He felled it thus with arrows shot,
The which he spent on wounds well wrought,
And left it scarce at length, unwound
Over Cirrhaean soil and ground:
Over one hundred acres spread!
Thence, new atonements for the dead
The god then sought, and hither yode
To our Crotopus' poor abode.
Here was a daughter, yearyoung she,
Waxing toward maturity
Wonderly beautiful and sheen,
Keeping the house, a maiden clean.
Fortunate were that virgin fair
Had she ne'er met the Delian there,
Phoebus and all th' intrigues he bore
Nor carried on occult amour.  
By Nemea's flowing rivercourse
She felt the god, o'ercome by force.
When twice times five fullfaced in sight,
Cynthia in cycles showed by night,
The maiden kindled life to light
Latona's grandson heavenbright.
But fearing punishment and ire
If such were learned by her own sire,
For he would give no grace thereof,
To forced wedlock and violent love,
She chooses acres free from roads
With fenced enclosures, sheeps' abodes,
And to a mountainwandering one,
A guard of flocks, entrusts her son,
Beseeching wholly in her need
For him to care and keep and feed.
O child, the cradle thou wert in
Befit not thee of so great kin,
With grassen bolsters there bestowed,
Within the oakenthatched abode.
But closed amidst Arbutus' rind
The limbs yet warmth and comfort find.
A hollow fistula is played
By which sweet slumber soon is made,
The ground in common holden there
The weary flocks are glad to share.
The cruel fates forbid howe'er
E'en that as home, that humble lair,
For while one day, on grass he lies,
Mouthopened, breathing in the skies,
A rage of hounds upon him draws
And tears and feeds with bloody jaws.  
When news thereof the mother hears
It shocks like thunder in her ears.
Father and shame fall out of mind
And former fear is left behind.
At once she wanes in all her wits
And fills the house with hideous fits.
And bearing forth a naked breast
Runs to her sire to be confessed.
Nor is he moved, nor is he mild
But horror! bids that his own child,
Yearning herself her final breath,
Be made to suffer dusky death.
Late mindful of thy love affair,
O Phoebus, thou wilt now prepare
A solace for her death and woe,
A monster birthed from hell below,
E'en from the Furies' filthy room,
'Neath lowest Acheron in gloom.
This has a maiden's face and breasts.
Atop her head, a snake ne'er rests,
Twixt iron brows, arising there,
Whose strident hisses fill the air.
Then, this dire plague, by night befalls,
And slides in chambers, slinks in halls,
Foully from bosoms' depths to rip
The recent offspring nurses grip,
And thus with bite and bloody flow
Much fattens on our country's woe.
Coroebus excellent of arms
And great of mind, bore not such harms.
With alderstrongest youths he came
Ready to hazard life for fame.
Having destroyed a new abode
By a gates' byway, now she yode
And at her side were corpses twain
Of little ones but newly slain,
Hooked hands yet tearing vital parts
And nails warmed in their tender hearts.
Against her Coroebus came strong
Surrounded by his manly throng,
And dalve his iron deeply prest,
His broadsword in her rigid breast.
With gleaming edge that inmost felt
The depths wherein her spirit dwelt,
At length he sent her overthrown
Returned to nether Jove to own.
'Twas joy to go and see right nigh
Livid in death the monster's eye,
And from her womb the pus outpour
And squalid breasts all crass with gore,
By which so many victims died.
Th' Inachian youths are stupified.
Now after tears great joys prevail
And now remembering, all grow pale.
And with hard sticks dead limbs totear
A vain relief for grief they bear,
On her sharp molars further wreak
And kick them out of either cheek:
Their might may not explete their anger.
Flying around with nocturn clangor
Ye birds, unfed, eschewed her sight,
E'en rabid hounds were filled with fright,
And trepid there, the wolves, they say,
Gaped with dry mouths and turned away.
Now with his slain aveng'ress' fate
The Delian's ire is doubled great,
Embittered at the youthful men,
And on twopeak Parnassus, then,
Sitting atop its shady height,
With curvy bow, with bitter spite,
He lets pestiferous arrows fly.
Feilds and Cyclopean houses high
Beneath the weather of the god
Are cast in stormclouds far and broad.
Sweet life to bitter ends is led
Death's sword cuts through the sisters' thread,
And bears the city, caught in woe,
Swift to the manes' depths below.
Whenas our leader asks the cause
What evil fire from ether draws,
And why alone is seen t' appear
Sirius reigning all the year,
Paean, the selfsame god decrees
As sacrafices to appease,
To the gored monster they should go,
Those that with slaughter laid her low.
O blest of mind about to earn
A lasting day as ages turn!
Not wretched thou, not wont to hide
Thy weapons or thy pious pride,
Nor run away, fear on thy breath,
Eschewing what seems certain death.
Coroebus stood and faced him plain
On the threshold of Cyrrah's fane,
And thus he sounds his heart entire
And asperates his sacred ire:
"Thymbraean, to thy temple here,
I come not sent nor bent in fear,
But piety has guided me
And concious virtue unto thee.
For I am he, O Phoebus, know
That laid thy mortal monster low,
That with dark cloud, with hindered day,
With pitchy filth, cast every way
Throughout the heaven's evil height
Thou seekest out with cruel might.
If monsters feirce and causing fear
To gods supernal be so dear,
And less a loss, below the sky,
To all the world, if humans die,
If heav'n has such inclemency,
Why should all Argives pay the fee?
'Tis I alone, O god most great,
I, that belong to such a fate.
Or are these more thine heart's delight,
Desolate houses in thy sight,
And hopeless cultors thy desire
And every acre lit on fire?
But why with words should I delay
Thy weapon and thine hand this way?
Mothers await and through the airs
Sound out for me the final prayers.
This is enough: I earned it so
That naught of mercy thou shouldst show.
Come then, bring forth thy quiver now
And stretch thy great resounding bow
And finally smite down this mark,
A noble soul, to death most dark.
But as I die, yet lingering here,
Dispel the cloud and make things clear.
Remove that pallid mass that stands
Thick o'er Inachian Argos' lands."

So equal fortune as it runs
E'en yet respects deserving ones.
Then ardent Letoides awed
For reverence overcame the god.
He grants the honour of his life,
However trist, and ends the strife.
The evil cloud flees from the height,
As thou heard out, wouldst leave, O knight,
Phoebus in great amazement there,
And o'er the temple's threshold fare.
Thence be these solemn feasts unrolled
That sacred rituals e'er uphold,
And honour new with gifts divine
Thus placates Phoebus holy shrine.
What progenies are ye by chance
That o'er these holy altars glance?
Though, if the clamour earlier made
Was rightly to mine ear conveyed
Soothly, they heard e'en that this one
Is Calydonian Oeneus' son,
O'er Parthaonian's house to reign.
But thou, the other of you twain,
That comest unto Argos' land
Reveal, that we may understand,
Thine own origin, stirp and stock,
While time allows for varied talk."

Th' Ismenian hero, with unmirth,
Turning his face toward the earth,
Then tacitely and cornerwise
To injured Tydeus took his eyes.
Thus for a while was nothing heard,
But finally his words upstirred:
"Not o'er these rites of gods divine
Should I be asked about my line,
Whence be my kin, what native stow
Or how mine ancient bloodties flow.
Uneath is that to be confest
Among these rituals clean and blest.
But if thy cares so urgent be
To learn of all my misery,
Cadmus is th'origin, indeed,
Of all my fathers and their seed,
Mavortian Thebes our native earth,
And from Jocasta's womb, my birth."
Adrastus stirred with friendlihood.
Indeed, he knew and understood:
"Wherefore conceal the known and couth?
We know" the monarch said "the truth,
Not from Mycenae turned away,
Does fame upon her journey stray.
About the kingdom and the madness,
About the shameful eyes and sadness,
E'en he that shakes neath Arctic suns,
Or drinks from Ganges, knows at once,
Or he that sails into the west
While darkness deepens on each crest,
Or whom with its uncertain shores
Syrtes confuses from their course.
No more lament, nor numerate
Thy fathers' woes with grief so great.
Piety in my blood as well,
Has erred in much, as I may tell.
Nor fathers' faults that be to blame
Fasten the sons to do the same.
Thou now look well and favour win
And earn restorance for thy kin.
But now the frosty guide in care,
That leads the hyperborean bear,
With pole and heaven backward bent,
Is seen to wane and grow forspent.
Pour over hearths the sparkling wine
And chant thine orisons divine
And Letoides, o'er and o'er
The savior of thy sires implore.

O father Phoebus, though it be,
Patara's bushes busy thee
And Lycia's ridges rich with snow,
Or amour urges thee to go
And in Castalia's pudic dew
Thy golden locks immerse anew,
Or Thymbraean, thou keepest Troy,
E'en where thou whilom wouldst employ,
As fame reports, thy thankless shoulders
And willing bear the Phrygian boulders.
Or casting shadows far and wide
Over the Aegean waters' tide
Latonian Cynthus pleases thee
Away from Delos midst the sea.
Thine are the darts and bending bow
Afar against the savage foe.
Thine heav'nly parents blest thy cheer
And made thy cheeks eternally sheer.
Learned thou foreknowst in thy skill
The Parcae's cruel hands and will.
The fate in store o'er and above,
And what is pleasing to high Jove,
Which year brings death, and in which folk
War shall break out with many stroke.
What change the flight of comets brings
For sceptres and the pow'r of kings.
Thou tamest well the Phrygian's heart
To learn the cithern's strings and art.
Thou honouring well thy mother's worth
Tityos, the offspring of the earth,
Extendest with thy mighty hand
Straight out upon the Stygian sand.
Thee, the green Python, full of awe,
And thee, the Theban mother saw,
With quiver conquor gloriously.
For an avenger unto thee
Severe Megaera, endlessly
Opresses Phlegyas, kept unfree,
Starving amidst the hollow rocks,
That lying there, the while he mocks,
And edges him with feasts profane,
Mixed sickness makes his hunger wane.
Be present and have memory
Of all our hospitality,
Lend the Junonian fields thy love
Favourable from the heights above.
Whether it be most meet and due
As th' Achaemenian kindred's thew
To call thee Titan roseus,
Osirus the frugiferous,
Or Mithras, in the Persean hollow
Twisting the horns that loathe to follow."
 



[This message has been edited by Essorant (11-27-2008 07:54 PM).]

Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada


53 posted 11-28-2008 08:43 PM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant


Liber Secundus


Meanwhile, the son of Maia wades
And shoves with wings o'er frigid shades,
Returning now from nether lands
And bearing mighty Jove's commands.
Thick clouds are cluttering everywhere
And round him runs the turbid air.
No Zephyrs there propelled his pace
But dirty mists and dinless space.
The river Styx stirs from one side
Whose currents round nine regions glide,
And from another blasts a blaze
Whose fiery waves enclose the ways.
Old Laius' shade behind him fares
Slow with the wound his form yet bears,
That impious blow, whence blood was spilt,
Driven more deeply than the hilt.
His kinsman's meech had made its path
And bore the firsts of Furies wrath.
Howe'er he held the medic rod
And trimmed his steps and further trod.
Then, sterile woods are stupified
And holden fields where phantoms hide
And irongrayish groves, anon,
And Earth herself is awebegone
To yawn and open unawares
With bonds unlocked from bottom lairs.
Livid in each unliving wight,
Even the newly lorn of light,
The ooze of envy up and under
Is wanting not at such a wonder.
One there stood forth before the rest
With illwill ever in his breast,
That oft at gods his hoker hurled,
Hence his grave wayfare from the world,
And sickened seeing happy folk
"Hie then, O happy one" he spoke,
"On whate'er purpose thou art prest
Whether by heighty Jove's behest
Or some grim Fury, led away,
To wend toward the light of day,
Or witmad witch of Thessaly
From hidden burial bidding thee,
Alas, about to look at skies,
The sun forsaken by thine eyes,
The lush green lands, the streams pure springs,
Only again to leave those things
And sadder than in soul before
Glide back unto this gloomy floor"
O'er the dark threshold, as he lay,
Cerebus sensed them on their way,
And all his heads gaped up in air,
Harsh e'en to people entering there.
As his black neck allthreatening thound,
Then had their bones been strewn aground,
If nad the god with craft enow
O'ercome him with a Lethian bough,
With such a lulling to consume
His ferrous eyes with threefold sloom.
 
chopsticks
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since 10-02-2007
Posts 870
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54 posted 11-30-2008 11:29 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

Essorant,  I like most of the stuff you translate, but I have a laymanís question:

When you come to a Latin word that has more than  one meaning , how do you decide

what meaning to use.  Donít tell me you have a committee and it is voted on.

You can cut and paste your reply ~~ Yes Chopszticks, I have a committee and we vote on  it.~~


Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
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55 posted 12-02-2008 02:02 PM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant

Chopsticks

Good question.  It is usually context that suggests a particular meaning.  But then again, a word with more than one meaning is not necessarly confined to only one of its meanings.  For example the word ferrum "iron" is also used to mean "sword", but it is not necessarily locked into one or the other, instead of implying both "iron" and "sword".  Even though "iron" is a bit untimely for the story of Thebes that takes place in the Bronze Age!  

The word os (plural ora) "mouth" is a bit more complex, for often it extends to mean "face" "features" and even "head".  

In the line below about the Gorgon engraved in Adrastus' bowl "features" or "face" seems best:

illa graves oculos languentiaque ora paene movet vivoque etiam pallescit in auro

"She (the gorgon, the decapitated head) heavy eyes and languid features/face almost moves and even yet grows pale in the living gold"

But in the below lines "heads" seems to work best.  And ferro, ablative singular of ferrum seems best to translate as "(with) iron":

Simul ora virum, simul arma manusque fractaque comixto sederunt pectora ferro

"At once heads of men, at once weapons, and hands and broken breasts lie with commingled iron"


Some more examples are the adjective ferreus "made of iron" also used to mean "stern", and lumen "light" (plural lumina) also used to mean "eye" :

iam sparsa solo turbaverat ossa, ni deus horrentum Lethaeo vimine mulcens ferrea tergemino domuisset lumina somno

"Now strewn on ground he had thrown their bones, had not the god the horrid (beast) with a Lethean bough lulling tamed his ferreous eyes with a threefold sleep"


chopsticks
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since 10-02-2007
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56 posted 12-02-2008 09:31 PM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

Good answers , thank you for taking the time Essorant.
Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada


57 posted 02-24-2009 01:10 AM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant



There stands a stead and found in fame
That known as Taenarus by name,
Called thus among th' Inachian theeds,
Where Malea's headland upward leads
And foaming much admits no sight
To gain by gaze its highmost height.
Sublime the apex overtowers
And fain despects the winds and showers,
And lends at length a lodging place
Where weary stars may rest their rays.
'Tis there the wind from work opprest
May settle down and seek some rest,
And there the lane of lightnings' flight.
Midway among the mountain's height
The hollow clouds environ cling
Nor is there plause of soaring wing
Nor pulse of thunder e'er so high
To reach its summits in the sky.
But when the day is setting prone
Immense the shadow from it thrown
That hoves midsea and outward draws
Stretching long edges o'er the waws.
Curving its frangent shore away
Taenarus forms an inner bay,
Not seen so daring as to brave
And clamber on the outer wave.
There Neptune to their haven leads,
From th' Aegean streams, his weary steeds,
Their fronts, with hooves touch on terrain,
Their ends, still fishforms in the main.

turtle
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since 01-23-2009
Posts 491
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58 posted 02-24-2009 02:33 AM       View Profile for turtle   Email turtle   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for turtle

Hi essy,

Buddy you had me for about the first half of this......

Too bad too, I was liking it.
There are spelling and punctuation errors, but it's the context mainly

Here, this is the worst one.

'"Tis there the wind from work opprest"

This doesn't make sense. First "opprest" is not a word.. If you mean oppressed, that
is a mental and not a physical fatique like work.

I think what I'm seeing here is that up to {L11) you where describing your scenario
after that you begin using metaphorical words/phrases and this starts to confuse the story.

This definitly has potential though.

chopsticks
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since 10-02-2007
Posts 870
The US,


59 posted 02-24-2009 08:44 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

I liked the poem a lot

Turtle, I know you are real busy elsewhere and you may not know this, but we allow Essy to make up  new words.  However, I donít think this was the case, I just think he misspelled the Latin word ~ operose ~  

Operose means wearisome in the Latin lingo.

You can be operosed mentally or physically.
turtle
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Posts 491
Harbor


60 posted 02-25-2009 06:52 AM       View Profile for turtle   Email turtle   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for turtle

Chops buddy,

You are one of the few people here to have carried on a
conversation with me as one human being to another. Me?
I'm just a turtle. Just like the feigh I think I see a  in you.


Am I busy? Why,.... yes I am. A busy little turtle indeed.


When these kids started coming down here, no one else was
stepping up to the bat. And, I saw their struggle to get in touch
with their emotions, wanting help with expressing those
emotions in poetry. Why not? Writing poetry helped me to
define my emotions when I was young.


You know.....I honestly don't know anything about anyone
here. I suppose I could go through everyone's profiles and visit
their web sites, then go back through the archives and form
an opinion about each and every individual. Why? We're all
just human beings here. I don't reckon no one needs to whip
out their credentials, unless there's going to be an arrest.


Me? I'm just a turtle here to play. Not really wanting to bother
anyone. Not looking to unseat anyone. Not looking for
romance (I've had internet romance. No thank you). I'm just
here to play.


If you mean I'm too busy to develop friendships. You're wrong.


Post a poem.


turtle
chopsticks
Senior Member
since 10-02-2007
Posts 870
The US,


61 posted 02-25-2009 08:48 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

ď When these kids started coming down here, no one else was
stepping up to the bat. And, I saw their struggle to get in touch
with their emotions, wanting help with expressing those
emotions in poetry. Why not? Writing poetry helped me to
define my emotions when I was young.Ē

Turtle, I think that is great and I have said this forum is lucky to have you and some
others on here. I mean this, give me your address and IĎll send a donation. I hate to see poets on here get off the boat and go straight to Ellis Island . ( Btw, that Ellis Island thingy is a metaphor)

Like my bookie says to me lots of times ~~ I donít know what youíre selling , but Iíll take a dozen ~~

I got one more :

Like my Granny would say, ~~ I walked all the way to Baltimore and if that ainít walking

Iíll walk some more.~~


Turtle, if I can think it, IĎll write it.

Btw, you can consider that Granny thingy a poem, a two liner.

I walked all the way to Baltimore.
If that ainít walking, Iíll walk some more.


Essorant
Member Elite
since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada


62 posted 02-25-2009 12:16 PM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant

Turtle,


Thanks for your comment.  But I admit (and hope saying so isn't provoking) that it seemed a bit unlearned and lacking deeper understanding in its main points.

quote:
First "opprest" is not a word


The spelling (and sometimes pronunciation) variation -ssed/est, as in blessed/blest, pressed/prest, dressed/drest, etc.  has a fairly long life in the language.  And it is based on the same kind of sound-behaviour that turns d into t in the words thought, left, slept, set.   Who reads poetry widely finds both spellings used here and there, either as legitimately as the other, even if not as common, for the same word.  

quote:
If you mean oppressed, that
is a mental and not a physical fatique like work.


There is much more to do in saying something than just saying it, there is also proving and arguing it.  Since when was the word oppressed/opprest locked into only a "mental" meaning?   The way I am using it is not much different than (physically or mentally) "overwhelmed".  The word oppress is made of the words ob "against" and press (just as the d turning to t, the b of ob turns to p) meaning  "press against, crush, overwhelm, etc".  There is no demand in the word for only a "mental" sense.  


turtle
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since 01-23-2009
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63 posted 02-25-2009 05:54 PM       View Profile for turtle   Email turtle   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for turtle

Hi Essy,

No, I'm not provoked by your response

I'm sure I'm not as versed in etymology as you and I enjoy learning anywhere I find it.

Essy, I always try to read with the readers perspective in mind. I think that, when a reader sees a word they are not familiar with and they try to find this word used in your poem and can't, it diminishes the writers credibility in their mind.

Being a person who enjoys delving deeply into word meanings, such as you, you might consider a clearer word choice than opprest.
This only serves to confuse your reader and defeat your effort in writing the poem.

turtle
turtle
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since 01-23-2009
Posts 491
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64 posted 02-25-2009 06:35 PM       View Profile for turtle   Email turtle   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for turtle

Hey chops,

Quote:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
( Btw, that Ellis Island thingy is a metaphor)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOOOO...lol

Quote:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walked all the way to Baltimore.
If that ainít walking, Iíll walk some more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think I see too much walking going on here.......Are you a Tennesse Walker?

I walked all the way to Hoboken once....It wasn't where I thought I was going though.......

But, I guess getting there is just a matter of putting one foot in front of another......
(a metaphor)

  


[This message has been edited by turtle (02-25-2009 07:33 PM).]

Essorant
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65 posted 03-08-2009 01:40 AM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant


(End of the previous paragraph):
As famed, a privy path conveys
The pallid ghosts upon their ways
To swarty Jove, as wealth midst walls,
And decks with death his roomy halls.
If true th' Arcadian tillers tell
A stridor straught is heard from hell
And groaning of the damned and dead,
And a dark throng thrings o'er the stead.
The Furies' voice and grips they say
Oft din until the middle day.
And Death's doorkeeper threeformed sounds
Fright'ning the farmers from their grounds.

Here, shrouded o'er in shadowheaps
The wingswift god uplandwards leaps
And shakes Hell's welkins off his face
Serened with living airs and rays.
Hence faring through Arcturus' lands
Where yet midmoonly silence stands
O'er field and folk with no delay
So goes the god and wields his way.
Along his path, aloft in flight,
There Sleep asteering steeds of night,
Stirred up to hail the god on high
Strayed from his rightway in the sky.
Beneath the god the shadow goes,
And stolen constellations knows,
His ginning and his kenningstow,
Despecting Cyrrah's heights below.
O'er Phocis too his downlook pours
Which land was sullied with his corse.
At Thebes, his son's own threshold nigh,
Now Laius made much moan and sigh,
Cunctating midway in the road
To go into the couth abode.
But when he found unto his eye
His yoke hung up on columns high
And saw his chariot as it stood
E'en now infected with his blood,
He almost flew away in fright.
Nor might that of the thunderlight
Loftiest Jove's unleast command,
Nor weilding of th' Arcadian wand,
Restrain his speed, so had it sped,
If Laius in his fear had fled.

That was thilk day by hap from heaven
The Thunderer marked with his levin,
When broken birth brought forth a son,
'Twas thou O Euhius, tender one,
Prerupted forth and after fire,
Taken in careships by thy sire.
Therefore the cause and reason came
That Tyrian tillers took to game
In rivalry and rich delight
Passing away the winkless night.
Through wones, through wongs, disperst about
With wreaths and winebowls drained to drought,
Beneath the light and far and broad
They yet breathed out the breathless god.
Then was the boxwood pipe well played
And plauses of the bronzes made,
Cymbals whose clangors overcome
The pulses of a taurine drum.
Cithaeron also mid delight
Made sober matrons rage outright,
Driven with better drunkenhoods
To wander through the wayless woods.
So as Bistonians bear with songs
Their revelry in rabid throngs
Throughfaring Rhodope or else
Thringing in middle Ossa's dells.
For them one of the flock is feast
Halflive from lions' jaws released,
For them a luxury to tame
With freshnew milk their furor's flame.
But if and when the cruel smell
Of Ogygian Iacchus swell
Then stones and cups from hands are fair
To throw and scatter here and there
And with spilt blood of blameless friends
The day and feasts again commence!

In silent airs of such a night
The swift Cyllenian glode in flight
To th' Echionian monarch's lair,
Where lay the king immensely there,
Outstraught his limbs, piled up complete
With many rich Assyrian sheet.
Alas for ignorance so great
Of mortal hearts blind to their fate!
He held a feast, he fell asleep.
Then, senior Laius would upkeep
And do that he was bidden do
And that he seem not but a hue
And false imaginance of the night
He donned the shady face and sight,
The voice and wonted woolen bands,
And as the seer Tiresias stands.
His own true locks and chinly beard,
His grey and pallor yet appeared,
But the false bands about his hair,
With olive bound stood out full fair.
Here seen, he holds an olive bough
With which to touch his bosom now,
And willing further not to wait
To utter forth these sounds of fate:
"This is no time for slumber, thou!
O careless of thy brother now,
That liest here in covers' height
Beneath the dusky depth of night.
Long have great deeds been calling thee
Thou slothful one, and more shall be.
So as upon th' Ionian main
Upstirred with southern wind and rain,
The captain heedlessly should lie
Beneath the blackness of the sky
Forgetful of his looms and laws
And rudder's turning of the waws,
Alas, thou tarriest here e'en so
Ignoring dangers thou shouldst know.
For now thy brother, fame acknows,
With newmade marriage moodstrong grows
And yares together might and main
By which to overtake the reign
Usurp indeed thy part from all
And meet his oldhood in thine hall.
And Argive dowers therebeside
Fill him with animus and pride
Nor not in lifelong fellowhood
Tydeus, stained by his brother's blood,
Augments the gladness of his heart
And gives much succour to his part.
Hence shows his pride upswollen strong,
And thou a promised exile long.
The father of the gods above
Himself in feeling ruth thereof
Hither from heights and unto thee
To send this saying hastened me:
Hold on to Thebes! And hard offthrust
Thy brother blind with kingdomlust,
That further yearning in his thought
That his own brother's death be brought
Let not in courses further run
With confidence in frauds begun
Or Mycenean queens bring in
To mix among Cadmean kin."
Thus quoth, and for the steeds of Light
Now put the pallid stars to flight,
He would away, but as he went
His bough and woolen bands offhent.
Revealed thus as his grandsire true,
O'er his dire grandson's covers drew,
And from his throat, with cut so deep,
With waves of woundblood drowns his sleep.
Rest is thus rent, and full of dread
He lifts his limbs and leaps from bed,
And weening that he were bebled
Shakes off the shadowshower of red.
Agrisen at his grandsire sore,
He seeks his sibling more and more.
As when with hunters' murmurs heard,
Fearing their nets, from sleep upstirred,
Lusty for war a tigress draws
Loos'ning her wangs and showing claws.
Anon has she the throng atsprung
And homeward bears to bloodyearn young
For aliment and end of drouth
A man halfbreathing in her mouth:
So wroth the rex desires none other
But war upon his absent brother.
 

swarty Jove The "Jove" of the underworld (=Pluto)
Euhius: another name for Bacchus, the god of wine
Iacchus: Another name for Bacchus
Cyllenian: Mercury
Echionian: Theban (From Echion, who helped found Thebes)
glode: the (correct) past tense of glide
corse: corpse
wone: habitation
wong: field
drouth: drought
looms: tools, equipment
agrise: to shudder with fear
wang: jaw or cheek
bloodyearn: eager for blood


chopsticks
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since 10-02-2007
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66 posted 03-08-2009 10:10 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

Essorant,  the parts are greater than the whole, but some of the lines are priceless .

The next time I try to buy a pot, and after due consideration, I get called and loose the pot

I am going to use one of the lines ~ He almost flew away in fright.~

By that  line Iím advertising the fact that Iím bluffing and when Iím not, Iíll win a big pot.

There are a lot of good lines, but alas, when you add them ALL up, the parts are greater than the whole.

I going to post this and go back to improving my stuff., but for the life of me I donít know why. In a few days Iíll be 87 years old , but that alone means nothing.

Have a nice Canadian sunset.
( All the winos know that Canadian Sunset is a cheap Canadian whiskey ) Itís ~NVO~ ( Not very old )
Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
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67 posted 03-09-2009 08:01 AM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant

Thanks for being a faithful reader.  I don't mind if parts of the translation are greater than the whole (if that is true).  Mind you the "whole" translation is not even done yet.  

But I think Statius' work itself deserves to be called perfect, for it is a work that is thoroughly polished and done by its author.   That is literally what "perfect" means.


Anyway, hope you have a good b-day, Chops.

chopsticks
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since 10-02-2007
Posts 870
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68 posted 03-09-2009 09:13 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

You are welcome and I am a faithful reader.

I believe that you do care what we think

Perfect, is when my neighbor takes

her lady for a walk.


Essorant
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since 08-10-2002
Posts 4689
Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada


69 posted 03-11-2009 07:55 AM       View Profile for Essorant   Email Essorant   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Essorant's Home Page   View IP for Essorant

quote:
I believe that you do care what we think


Is that in question, Chops?  I always care about what others think, but it takes a lot before I am willing to give into something they suggest I ought or ought not to do.  

chopsticks
Senior Member
since 10-02-2007
Posts 870
The US,


70 posted 03-11-2009 09:28 AM       View Profile for chopsticks   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for chopsticks

ď Is that in question, Chops? I always care about what others think, but it takes a lot before I am willing to give into something they suggest I ought or ought not to do. ď

No my friend not a question, more like my thought of the day.

And, it is obvious Essy, you are no push over.

Now as that wise old sailor would say, go

translate something or read a book

or what ever comes first.
 
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