craner
Beast of Burden
No I haven't!
The Cantos
- Thread starter luka
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- a leaf in the current condom full of black beetles hate is not born in the trenches i cannot make it cohere i have tried to write paradise indulge the banter pound for pound pull down thy vanity she is an octopus the great ball of crystal the hells move in cycles the temple is holy because it is not for sale the vines burst from my fingers thought is a labyrinth unexpected excellent sausage
No I haven't!
luka
Well-known member
Craner has the giant Terrell guide to the Cantos which I was too cheap to fork out for so he's going to do half of this poem for us. I've got the much shorter Cookson guide. Also A student's guide and a guide to the selected cantos.
Last edited:
luka
Well-known member
el triste pensier turns
in Ussel. In Ventadour
va il consire, el tempo rivolge
the sad thought turns/to Ussel. To Ventadorn/the thought goes, times turns back
(a blend of Bernart de Ventadorn's "Lo tems vai e ven ai vire" and Dante Purgatorio VIII)
en.wikipedia.org
in Ussel. In Ventadour
va il consire, el tempo rivolge
the sad thought turns/to Ussel. To Ventadorn/the thought goes, times turns back
(a blend of Bernart de Ventadorn's "Lo tems vai e ven ai vire" and Dante Purgatorio VIII)
Bernart de Ventadorn - Wikipedia
luka
Well-known member
Lo tems vai e ven e vire
Per jorns, per mes e per ans,
Et eu, las no.n sai que dire,
C'ades es us mos talans.
Ades es us e no.s muda,
C'una.n volh e.n ai volguda,
Don anc non aic jauzimen.
Pois ela no.n pert lo rire,
E me.n ven e dols e dans,
C'a tal joc m'a faih assire
Don ai lo peyor dos tans,
--C'aitals amors es perduda
Qu'es d'una part mantenguda--
Tro que fai acordamen.
Be deuri' esser blasmaire
de me mezeis a razo,
c'anc no nasquet cel de maire
que tan servis en perdo;
e s'ela no m'en chastia,
ades doblara.lh folia,
que: "fols no tem, tro que pren".
Ja mais no serai chantaire
ni de l'escola n'Eblo,
que mos chantars no val gaire
ni mas voutas ni mei so;
ni res qu'eu fassa ni dia,
no conosc que pros me sia,
ni no.i vei melhuramen.
Si tot fatz de joi parvensa,
Mout ai dins lo cor irat.
Qui vid anc mais penedensa
Faire denan lo pechat
On plus la prec, plus m'es dura!
Mas si'n breu tems no.s melhura,
Vengut er al partimen.
Pero ben es qu'ela.m vensa
A tota sa volontat,
Que, s'el' a tort o bistensa,
Ades n'aura pietat!
Que so mostra l'escriptura :
Causa de bon'aventura
Val us sols jorns mais de cen.
Ja no.m partrai a ma vida,
Tan com sia saus ni sas,
Que pois l'arma n'es issida,
Balaya lonc tems lo gras .
E si tot no s'es cochada ,
Ja per me no.n er blasmada,
Sol d'eus adenan s'emen.
Ai, bon' amors encobida,
Cors be faihz, delgatz e plas
Ai, frescha charn colorida,
Cui Deus formet ab sas mas
Totz tems vos ai dezirada,
Que res autra no m'agrada.
Autr' amor no volh nien
Dousa res ben ensenhada,
Cel que.us a tan gen formada,
Me.n do cel joi qu'eu n'aten
Per jorns, per mes e per ans,
Et eu, las no.n sai que dire,
C'ades es us mos talans.
Ades es us e no.s muda,
C'una.n volh e.n ai volguda,
Don anc non aic jauzimen.
Pois ela no.n pert lo rire,
E me.n ven e dols e dans,
C'a tal joc m'a faih assire
Don ai lo peyor dos tans,
--C'aitals amors es perduda
Qu'es d'una part mantenguda--
Tro que fai acordamen.
Be deuri' esser blasmaire
de me mezeis a razo,
c'anc no nasquet cel de maire
que tan servis en perdo;
e s'ela no m'en chastia,
ades doblara.lh folia,
que: "fols no tem, tro que pren".
Ja mais no serai chantaire
ni de l'escola n'Eblo,
que mos chantars no val gaire
ni mas voutas ni mei so;
ni res qu'eu fassa ni dia,
no conosc que pros me sia,
ni no.i vei melhuramen.
Si tot fatz de joi parvensa,
Mout ai dins lo cor irat.
Qui vid anc mais penedensa
Faire denan lo pechat
On plus la prec, plus m'es dura!
Mas si'n breu tems no.s melhura,
Vengut er al partimen.
Pero ben es qu'ela.m vensa
A tota sa volontat,
Que, s'el' a tort o bistensa,
Ades n'aura pietat!
Que so mostra l'escriptura :
Causa de bon'aventura
Val us sols jorns mais de cen.
Ja no.m partrai a ma vida,
Tan com sia saus ni sas,
Que pois l'arma n'es issida,
Balaya lonc tems lo gras .
E si tot no s'es cochada ,
Ja per me no.n er blasmada,
Sol d'eus adenan s'emen.
Ai, bon' amors encobida,
Cors be faihz, delgatz e plas
Ai, frescha charn colorida,
Cui Deus formet ab sas mas
Totz tems vos ai dezirada,
Que res autra no m'agrada.
Autr' amor no volh nien
Dousa res ben ensenhada,
Cel que.us a tan gen formada,
Me.n do cel joi qu'eu n'aten
Benny Bunter
Well-known member
Wow, nice of you to offer @craner that would be lovely
luka
Well-known member
Time comes, and goes, and runs away,
In days, and months, and so in years;
And I, alas, have naught to say,
For my longing ever one appears.
It’s ever one, and never falters,
For I love one, it never alters,
Of whom I’ve had no happiness.
Since she mocks me every way,
Grief and harm have come to me;
She has sat me down to play
At a game where I lose doubly –
For that love has always died
That’s only upheld on one side –
Unless she make peace, I confess.
I should indeed lay the blame
On myself, with all due reason,
For never was born one so lame,
Who serves idly, in every season.
And if she’ll not chase folly away
My folly will double, for they say:
A fool fears not till he’s in distress.
I will be a singer no more,
Nor be of Lord Eble’s school,
For what is all this singing for?
There’s no worth in melody’s rule;
Whatever I do, whatever I say
I can’t make things go my way,
Nor do I dream of any progress.
Though I make a show of joy,
My heart within is full of woe.
Who ever did penance employ
Before he sinned? I tell you though,
The more I beg, the harsher she,
If she’s not gentler soon with me,
There’ll be a parting I would guess.
Yet it’s good that she subjects me
To her whole will utterly,
For if she does wrong, and slowly,
The sooner she’ll take pity;
For, or so the scriptures say,
Through good luck, a single day
May a whole century redress.
Lifelong, I’ll never leave her,
As long as I’m hale and whole;
The flesh may go hang after
It has parted from the soul;
And though she is never hasty,
She’ll get no blame from me,
If she makes amends, I’ll bless.
Ah, sweet love, all my desire,
Fine, slim, neat your body stands,
Fresh complexion, subtle fire,
Whom God shaped in his hands!
I’ll long for you forever,
No other gives me pleasure.
No other love do I profess.
Sweet and most gracious treasure,
May He who formed you in measure
Grant joy desired, now, in excess!
In days, and months, and so in years;
And I, alas, have naught to say,
For my longing ever one appears.
It’s ever one, and never falters,
For I love one, it never alters,
Of whom I’ve had no happiness.
Since she mocks me every way,
Grief and harm have come to me;
She has sat me down to play
At a game where I lose doubly –
For that love has always died
That’s only upheld on one side –
Unless she make peace, I confess.
I should indeed lay the blame
On myself, with all due reason,
For never was born one so lame,
Who serves idly, in every season.
And if she’ll not chase folly away
My folly will double, for they say:
A fool fears not till he’s in distress.
I will be a singer no more,
Nor be of Lord Eble’s school,
For what is all this singing for?
There’s no worth in melody’s rule;
Whatever I do, whatever I say
I can’t make things go my way,
Nor do I dream of any progress.
Though I make a show of joy,
My heart within is full of woe.
Who ever did penance employ
Before he sinned? I tell you though,
The more I beg, the harsher she,
If she’s not gentler soon with me,
There’ll be a parting I would guess.
Yet it’s good that she subjects me
To her whole will utterly,
For if she does wrong, and slowly,
The sooner she’ll take pity;
For, or so the scriptures say,
Through good luck, a single day
May a whole century redress.
Lifelong, I’ll never leave her,
As long as I’m hale and whole;
The flesh may go hang after
It has parted from the soul;
And though she is never hasty,
She’ll get no blame from me,
If she makes amends, I’ll bless.
Ah, sweet love, all my desire,
Fine, slim, neat your body stands,
Fresh complexion, subtle fire,
Whom God shaped in his hands!
I’ll long for you forever,
No other gives me pleasure.
No other love do I profess.
Sweet and most gracious treasure,
May He who formed you in measure
Grant joy desired, now, in excess!
luka
Well-known member
I was 14 years old at the time. I had other interests.
luka
Well-known member
Benny has decided we are doing this one, the first of the Pisan Cantos.
The Cantos Project - LXXIV -poem
The Cantos Project is dedicated to the research of Ezra Pound's long poem The Cantos
luka
Well-known member
Urochs = Aurochs
www.atlasobscura.com
The Aurochs Skull
The gigantic skull of a long-extinct species that once roamed the forests of England and Ireland.
www.atlasobscura.com
luka
Well-known member
Butterflies, mint and Lesbia's sparrows...
The Greek poet Sappho connected them with the goddess of love, Aphrodite, and two of Catullus’s best-known poems connect lust and his lover Lesbia’s pet sparrow. (‘Passer’ is the word, though whether it was biologically a sparrow is doubtful, because sparrows make poor pets). In poem 2, ‘Passer, deliciae meae puellae’, Lesbia teases and flirts with her pet in a way that leaves the poet ‘all shiny with desire’. By poem 3 the bird has died, ‘gone on the dark journey from which they say no one returns’, leaving Lesbia red-eyed with grief – which, implicitly, distracts her from her lover’s attentions.
All you Loves and Cupids cry
and all you men of feeling
my girl’s sparrow is dead,
my girl’s beloved sparrow.
She loved him more than herself.
He was sweeter than honey, and he
knew her, as she knows her mother.
He never flew out of her lap,
but, hopping about here and there,
just chirped to his lady, alone.
Now he is flying the dark
no one ever returns from.
Evil to you, evil Shades
of Orcus, destroyers of beauty.
You have stolen the beautiful sparrow from me.
Oh sad day! Oh poor little sparrow!
Because of you my sweet girl’s eyes
are red with weeping, and swollen.
Gaius Valerius Catullus
Wherewith in bosom nurst to toy
She loves, and gives her finger-tip
For sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,
Were she who my desire withstood
To seek some pet of merry mood,
As crumb o' comfort for her grief,
Methinks her burning lowe's relief:
Could I, as plays she, play with thee,
That mind might win from misery free!
...
To me t'were grateful (as they say),
Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,
Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.
Catullus. Carmina. Sir Richard Francis Burton. trans. London. For translator for private use. 1894.
and there was a smell of mint under the tent flaps
especially after the rain
and a white ox on the road toward Pisa
as if facing the tower,
dark sheep in the drill field and on wet days were clouds
in the mountain as if under the guard roosts.
A lizard upheld me
the wild birds wd not eat the white bread
from Mt Taishan to the sunset
From Carrara stone to the tower
The Greek poet Sappho connected them with the goddess of love, Aphrodite, and two of Catullus’s best-known poems connect lust and his lover Lesbia’s pet sparrow. (‘Passer’ is the word, though whether it was biologically a sparrow is doubtful, because sparrows make poor pets). In poem 2, ‘Passer, deliciae meae puellae’, Lesbia teases and flirts with her pet in a way that leaves the poet ‘all shiny with desire’. By poem 3 the bird has died, ‘gone on the dark journey from which they say no one returns’, leaving Lesbia red-eyed with grief – which, implicitly, distracts her from her lover’s attentions.
All you Loves and Cupids cry
and all you men of feeling
my girl’s sparrow is dead,
my girl’s beloved sparrow.
She loved him more than herself.
He was sweeter than honey, and he
knew her, as she knows her mother.
He never flew out of her lap,
but, hopping about here and there,
just chirped to his lady, alone.
Now he is flying the dark
no one ever returns from.
Evil to you, evil Shades
of Orcus, destroyers of beauty.
You have stolen the beautiful sparrow from me.
Oh sad day! Oh poor little sparrow!
Because of you my sweet girl’s eyes
are red with weeping, and swollen.
Gaius Valerius Catullus
LESBIA'S SPARROW
Sparrow! my pet's delicious joy,Wherewith in bosom nurst to toy
She loves, and gives her finger-tip
For sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,
Were she who my desire withstood
To seek some pet of merry mood,
As crumb o' comfort for her grief,
Methinks her burning lowe's relief:
Could I, as plays she, play with thee,
That mind might win from misery free!
...
To me t'were grateful (as they say),
Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,
Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.
Catullus. Carmina. Sir Richard Francis Burton. trans. London. For translator for private use. 1894.
and there was a smell of mint under the tent flaps
especially after the rain
and a white ox on the road toward Pisa
as if facing the tower,
dark sheep in the drill field and on wet days were clouds
in the mountain as if under the guard roosts.
A lizard upheld me
the wild birds wd not eat the white bread
from Mt Taishan to the sunset
From Carrara stone to the tower
luka
Well-known member
Lesbia - Wikipedia
Lesbia was the literary pseudonym used by the Roman poet Gaius Valerius Catullus (c. 82–52 BC) to refer to his lover. Lesbia is traditionally identified with Clodia, the wife of Quintus Caecilius Metellus Celer and sister of Publius Clodius Pulcher; her conduct and motives are maligned in Cicero's extant speech Pro Caelio, delivered in 56 BC.
luka
Well-known member
1 Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
2 rumoresque senum severiorum
3 omnes unius aestimemus assis!
4 soles occidere et redire possunt;
5 nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux,
6 nox est perpetua una dormienda.
7 da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
8 dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
9 deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum;
10 dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
11 conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
12 aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
13 cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and love,
and the rumors of rather stern old men
let us value all at just one penny!
Suns may set and rise again;
for us, when once the brief light has set,
an eternal night must be slept.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand, then a hundred;
then, when we have performed many thousands,
we shall shake them into confusion,[4] in order for us to lose the count,
and in order not to let any evil person envy us,
as no one will be aware of how many kisses have there been.
2 rumoresque senum severiorum
3 omnes unius aestimemus assis!
4 soles occidere et redire possunt;
5 nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux,
6 nox est perpetua una dormienda.
7 da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
8 dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
9 deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum;
10 dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
11 conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
12 aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
13 cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and love,
and the rumors of rather stern old men
let us value all at just one penny!
Suns may set and rise again;
for us, when once the brief light has set,
an eternal night must be slept.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand, then a hundred;
then, when we have performed many thousands,
we shall shake them into confusion,[4] in order for us to lose the count,
and in order not to let any evil person envy us,
as no one will be aware of how many kisses have there been.