Saturday, August 22, 2009

SENORITA: Inspired by Justin Timberlake;
written in Sapphic mode.

ut mei maestam miseret puellam
crinibus fusis oculisque quondam
laetis, corruptis lacrimas recenter
propter obortas!

quae nondum sertam meruit coronam
victricem, passae pueri parum aequi
tela; cuius non simili est amicus*
vulnere passus.

sentiat, si illam liceat lacertis
amplexari mollibus, esse amoris
verioris me stimulantis usque
summa adipisci

virtutis. Per nubila dormienti
visa est interdum mihi summa currens
leniter; "mecum," rogat et stupentem
"visne volare?"

vel tela; non ictu simili est amicus
saucius ipse.

How sad I am for
The sorrowful girl, her hair undone,
and her eyes, once happy,
now ruined on account of
tears, recently sprung!

She has earned a crown,
a victor's crown, not yet plaited,
for the
woman who has suffered
the shafts of unfair Cupid:
whose boyfriend wasn't struck
with the same wound.

She would feel, if I could only
hold her in my gentle arms,
that I was of a love more true,
a love that was ever goading
me on to attain the heights

of excellence. When I sleep
I've sometimes seen her
in my dreams, lightly running
over the tops of the clouds.
And she asks me, dumbfounded
though I am, "Do you want
to fly with me?"


On that sunny day
Didn't know I'd meet
Such a beautiful girl
Walking down the street
Seen those bright brown eyes
With tears coming down
She deserves a crown
But where is it now
Mamma listen

Senorita, I feel for you
You deal with things, that you don't have to
He doesn't love ya, I can tell by his charm
But you could feel this real love
If you just lay in my...

Running fast in my mind
Girl don't you slow it down
If we carry on this way
This thing might leave the ground
How would you like to fly?

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Ad Oras Anglorum Novas Rediturae (in progress)

Novi ________* nunc Eboraci litora linquit
Anglorumque oras mox reditura novas
umidiores nunc, aestas quando est media; imber
nocte venit sera; tela iacit nitida
saeva sonans acies tonitru - reboante nemore -
nubium, et est cordi continuisse suam
iam cuique amatori; pluviamque audisse canoram
tectum pulsantem, et verba susurra* loqui.
"Proferat illa O si nox clara diem; trahat horas
has nobis, liceat quas removere die."

*name surpressed (scans as dactyl)
*susurrus, -a, -um: Ovid Met. 7.825.

Manhattan's shores she leaves behind
soon to return to New England's climes,
more humid now at midsummer's height.

Now the rain comes late at night,
when warlike, ranks of clouds resound
with thunder, as they hurl down

their brilliant spears; their brazen clangor's
heard amongst the trees. And amours
are kept safe inside; embraces

are dear to lovers now, their place
lies in each other's arms. The song
of the rain on the rooftops; the soft

whispers: "O if night delayed
tomorrow, and added, from the day
to the few hours we now share."