Friday, November 26, 2010




End of the Road
(based on Viva La Vida, by Coldplay)

Photo (detail): Margaret Bourke-White, 1944. Source: LIFE/Google


"Quondam omnēs gentēs diciōne sōlus
ūnicā rēxī, pelagusque nūtū
aestuat meō; placidē resēdit
dicta facessens.

Fortūnae in palmō positus superbō
hostium timens pavidumque sensī
pectus; victorem et populus canēbat:
'Aemule dīvīs,

iō!' saevō ingressus milite ōlim in urbēs
gemmārum et aurī rapiēbam acervōs
templa infracta et foedera fracta līquī
turbinis instar.

mox terrōre armīsque regō cruentīs
ossibus trītīs procerum corōna est
et cruōre facta thronusque fūsō
sanguine fultus.

Cārius praedīs caput esse opīmīs
ōra per vulgī volitat susūrrus
nōvī stāre mōbilibus deinde
rēgiam harēnīs."

tālī garrulus mihi fātus ōre
senex nunc verrens trivium celebre
quod tyrannus tum numerāret inter
spōlia regnī.

Translation:

"Once I alone ruled all nations
with unparalleled might
and the sea at my nod
swells; and - eager to do my bidding -
there! has settled down again.

Placed in Fortune's haughty palm,
I sensed the quaking, timid heart
of my enemy, and as victor
the people would hymn me:
"Hail, O Rival to the Gods!"

Once, I invaded cities with savage armies
and seized heaps of gems and gold,
broken temples, and broken treaties
I left behind, like a savage tornado.

Then with terror and by cruel arms I rule;
From the ground bones and the gore
of princes has my diadem been made
and my throne supported
on their spilled blood.

The whisper flits across the people's lips
that my head is dearer than rich plunder
Then I know my palace stands
on shifting sand."

With such words did the talkative
old man address me, as now he swept
the crowded public square -
which back then as monarch - so he claimed -
he reckoned as a prize of war.

Model:

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead, Long live the king"

One minute I held the key
next the walls were closed on me
and I discovered that my castles stand
on pillars of salt ʻnʻ pillars of sand

[refrain 1]

It was the wicked and wild wind
blew down the doors to let me in
shattered windows and the sound of drums
people couldn't believe what I'd become

Revolutionaries wait
for my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh, who would ever want to be king?

[refrain 2 x 2]

Wednesday, November 24, 2010



Viva La Vida in Latin Sapphics
(original lyrics by Coldplay)
[in progress]








Quondam omnēs gentēs diciōne sōlus
ūnicā rēxī, pelagusque nūtū
aestuat meō; placidē resēdit
dicta facessens.

Fortūnae in palmō positus superbō
hostium timens pavidumque sensī
pectus; victorem et populus canēbat:
'Aemule dīvīs,

iō!' saevō ingressus milite ōlim in urbēs
gemmārum et aurī rapiēbam acervōs
templa infracta et foedera fracta līquī
turbinis instar.

mox terrōre armīsque regō cruentīs
ossibus trītīs procerum corōna est
et cruōre facta thronusque fūsō
sanguine fultus.

Translation:

Once I alone ruled all nations
with unparalleled might
and the sea at my nod
swelled; and eager to do my bidding
settled down again.

Placed in Fortune's haughty palm,
I sensed the quaking, timid heart
of my enemy, and as victor
the people would hymn me:
"Hail, O Rival to the Gods!"

Once, I invaded cities with savage armies
and seized heaps of gems and gold,
broken temples, and broken treaties
I left behind, like a savage tornado.

Then with terror and by cruel arms I rule;
From the ground bones and the gore
of princes has my diadem been made
and my throne supported
on their bloodshed.

Model:

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead, Long live the king"

One minute I held the key
next the walls were closed on me
and I discovered that my castles stand
on pillars of salt ʻnʻ pillars of sand

[refrain]

It was the wicked and wild wind
blew down the doors to let me in
shattered windows and the sound of drums
people couldn't believe what I'd become

Fragment of Work in Progress:

Parce mihi, mors atra, precor, diem in alterum, et index
ne digitus monstret - signa timenda - tuus!

Spare me Death, I pray, spare me over
'til another day; and let not your finger
- fearsome sign! - point at me today.

Sunday, September 12, 2010








Laguna Beach, California (Sapphics)
Rough Draft

lītorī crēdunt decus aureumque
līquidumque undae; reboat (u _ _)
cautes immōtusque repellit agmen
vīgil aquārum.

Lūna scintillīs nitidīs corusca
caerulum spargit pelagus, fragōsa
saxa; corda et Pacificī serēnant
anxia ventī.

To the shores the waves endow
their golden, flowing trust.
The serene cliff re-echoes, and repels
the onward march of waters,
unmoving watch.

The moon - look! - sprinkles the
azure gulf, the rugged cliffs
with glittering pin-pricks
of light...






Laguna Beach, California (Sapphics)

lītorī crēdunt decus aureumque
līquidumque undae; reboat serēnus
cautes immōtusque repellit agmen
vīgil aquārum.

Lūna scintillīs - vide! - jam coruscīs
caerulum spargit pelagus, fragōsa
saxa; [convīvarum hilarī taberna est
plēna corōnā.]

To the shores the waves endow
their golden, flowing trust.
The serene cliff re-echoes, and repels
the onward march of waters,
unmoving watch.

The moon - look! - sprinkles the
azure gulf, the rugged cliffs
with glittering pin-pricks
of light. [The bar is packed with
a cheerful throng of merrymakers.]

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Fragment

Hīc 'nova nupta, iō!' clāmārant laeta iuventae
turba atque aerea tum Sancta Marīa canit
Tum placet hūc nōbīs - foedera firma - redīre
'dēserere est thalamum fās sine amōre meum,'
haec tua tum dicta et potuit convīvium alacre
audīrī procul et carmina canta tibi.
coniunx et celebrat, celebrat iūcunda corōna
quamquam et stant longē, nostra susūrra placent!

Here the happy throng of youth
had shouted 'hurray for the new bride!'
Then Saint Mary sings her songs of bronze.
Then does it please us to return here -
a firm pact - then these were your words:
'It's right to desert my marriage bed
without love as it is.' Then the lively
festivities, and the songs sung for you
could be heard from afar, and your husband
celebrates, and the merry multitude.
And though they stand far off, nonetheless
our whispers please us.

Monday, September 06, 2010




St. Mary's Bells (Take One)
(inspired by Jacques Brel, "Je ne sais pas")


Alta suōs ulmus, fāgī et posuēre colōrēs
sōlus apud callem tē maneō solitum.
Clangōrēs, mea amāta, Marīam ēmittere Sanctam
audiō et exspectō; tempus abīre premit!
convēnit nōbīs cum Plīada (mense Novembrī)
vīdimus in summō - hūc rediisse - polō.
At ventī quīdam sonitus crispantia flantis
fōlia; cornīcis vox et acūta monent:
Lītora tē nāvī procul hinc illō comitante
Mīra petītūram; excēdere amōre novō.

The tall elm and the beech
have set aside their colors.
I await you alone, by the accustomed path.
Saint Mary sounds her brazen bells:
I listen and watch out for you.
The time to depart presses (upon us)!
We agreed to return here, when saw the Pleiads
at the sky's summit.
And yet a certain sound - of the wind
blowing the trembling leaves; that,
and the crow's sharp cry advise me:
that you aim to reach strange shores
with him as your companion,
that you depart with new love.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Patroclus and Achilles - Take Four


Dūrīs, Achille, ex cautibus et gelū
numquam solūtō nāte, movent neque haec
dīrae bucīnae nuntiantēs
Dardana tēla fugasse nostrōs;

nec celsa virtus nunc morientium?
vallō minātur Trōica pīneō
pūbēs, resistet firma porta
illa diū neque fortis Ājax.

silvās velut cum flamma vorat, velut
nīvēs perennēs Thrēiciae cadunt
sīc ista saevit semper īra
rōbora quā pereunt Achaea.

Born of the hard rock, Achilles,
and of ice never-dissolved,
do neither the dread trumpets
move you, announcing that
Dardan weapons have put our own to flight,

nor the lofty courage of the dying?
Trojan youth now threaten the pine-wood
rampart, nor will that firm gate,
nor brave Ajax long withstand (them).

As when a fire devours forests, like
Thracian snows fall, year-round,
so does your anger ever rage,
for which the picked men of Achaea perish.


Sunday, August 22, 2010





Patroclus and Achilles - Take Three







Dūrīs, Achille ex cautibus et gelū
numquam solūtō nāte, movent neque haec
vōcēs bucīnae nōn valentēs
rōbora nec moritūra Achaea?

vī pugnat Ājax Hectoreae tenax
vallō et minātur Trōica pīneō
pūbēs, resistet firma postis
ille diū neque fortis hērōs.

silvās velut cum flamma vorat; velut
nīvēs perennēs Thrēiciae cadunt
ignis furōris semper ardet,
nunc animōs ruit iste nostrōs.


"Achilles, born of the hard crags, born
of ice never-dissolved,
Do neither the failing calls of the war-trumpet,
nor Achaea's picked troops, about to die,
move you?

Stubborn Ajax fights 'gainst Hector's might,
and the Trojan youth threaten the pine-wood
rampart. Now the firm door post will not,
nor will that brave hero, resist for long.

As when a fire devours forests; as
the Thracian snows fall, year-round,
so does the fire of your rage e'er blaze,
(and) now it lays our courage low."

Friday, August 20, 2010

Patroclus to Achilles
Alternative Stanzas
(2)

Altīs, Achille ex rūpibus et gelū
numquam solūtō nāte, movent neque haec
vōcēs bucīnae nōn valentēs
rōbora nec moritūra Achaea?

Born of the high crags and never-dissolving frost
do neither these failing calls of the war trumpet,
nor the picked troops of Greece, about to die,
move you?


Patroclus to Achilles
alternative first stanzas

(1)
Ō nāte dūrā ex caute, leōnibus
nūtrīte, flectī cor sine ferreum
ut fonte pūrō cum minūta est
flamma, furensve fugātus Auster...

Wednesday, August 18, 2010




Patroclus Achillem orat, ut īram dēponat
Patroclus begs Achilles to put aside his anger (Revised Version)
in Alcaics


"Ō nāte dūrā ex rūpe, leōnibus
nutrīte, mollīrī sine tē, precor,
ut fonte pūrō cum minūta est
flamma, furensve fugātus Auster

maris potentī; nam cohibet manūs
vī turma Grāiās Hectoreā tenax:
Lux nostra, nunc exstingue saevum
rōbora quō pereunt Achaea

furōris ignem, tē morientium
clāmor, bucīna et admoneat gravis
nōn sustinērī posse Phoebo
tēla diū Lycia adiuvante."

O, born of the harsh cliff, nourished

by lions, allow yourself to be won over,

I pray, as when fire has been lessened

by clear water, or raging Auster


put to flight by Neptune. For a squadron,

tenacious thanks to Hector’s might,

hems in the Greek forces.

O our light, now quench the fire


of savage anger, through which

the flower of Achaea perish.

Let the cry of the dying, and the

deep-pitched trumpet now remind you

that Lycian spears cannot be sustained

for long, with Phoebus helping (them).

Sunday, July 11, 2010


Quid valet altus Amor?
Rough Draft

Quid valet altus Amor? Vestīgia flectere suāsit
mīlitiās certī dūcis adīre gravēs:
ignōtum officium - vigilāre apud ostia Gallae -
cūrat; iam sōlā lūdere nocte lyram.
Prīmum capta rudī suspīria, Ō, Galatēa,
saxō fēcit Amor vīvifica ut traherēs!
Sextō claudentēs oriuntur amōre puellae
versūs cēlantis corde secrēta suō.
Dēlia fuit causae, Rōmāne poēta, canendō
nec moritūra lyrā, terse Tibulle, tuā.

What can lofty love do? It urged a general
to bend back his steps, dead-set though he was
on beginning grievous tours of duty.
Now an unaccustomed duty concerns him:
staying up nights by his Galla's door;
serenading her on guitar throughout the lonely night.
And, O, captive of the rough rock, you, Galatea;
Love first caused you to draw life-giving breaths!
Out of love Propertius' limping verses sprang forth,
love for a girl who hid her secrets
deep in her heart;
and Delia was the cause, Roman poet, for your song;
nor will she ever die, concise Tibullus, thanks to your lyre.

Thursday, July 08, 2010


Quid valet altus Amor? - a fragment


Magno claudentes oriuntur amore puellae
versus; celantis corde secreta suo


Out of great love for a girl,
who hides secrets in her heart
limping verses spring forth...

Saturday, March 06, 2010

Epigraph to the Eulogy for Mr. Turner
(delivered 3/6/10 at St. Sebastian's Church; Providence RI).

Felīx, nunc exīs ad lītora, prāta beāta,
laetōrum, at nōbīs, quōs meminisse iuvant
dicta facēta tua; studium scriptōribus altum
antīquīs, et amor discipulōrum, etiam
vīvis; et inspīrās; absīs licet, optime Turner,
corpore; nunc animō, docte magister, adēs!

Happily you now travel to the shores of the blessed
but as for us, whom it pleases to remember
your witticisms, your deep passion for the ancient authors,
and your love for your students, for us you still live.
And though, Mr. Turner, you be absent in body
Now in spirit, learned teacher, you are present for us.

Monday, February 15, 2010



Achilles runs alone

in Sapphic meter

undā per lītus resonante Phthīus
fragōsum et sōlum (procul est tubārum
invidus clangor; strepitūsque dīrī)
currit Achillēs.

iam volant āvēs, minitante vōce
clangōrēs fundunt ut Achillis urget
plūmeae cursus aciē fugatque
Thessala cūpit

lītora et salsum pelagus redīre

Along the strand, the lonely strand,
breaking with the crash of waves
(far is the hated trumpets' call;
far the cry of men) Phthian Achilles
runs.

The terns flit away, hurling threats
as Achilles' swift onset presses near
then causes them to flee; to Thessaly's

shores and seas he longs to go.





Saturday, January 09, 2010






Against Mountaintop CoalMining,
or, Sweet Appalachian Mountain Spring (yet another work in progress).





summa vidēs montis praecīsa, cacūmina dempta,
(pīnūs hīc steterant, crescit ubī lolium)?
umbrōsas sinuit per quercūs flumina rīvus,
squāmeus et lūsit gurgite grex tepidō.
Aspice, nunc latebrās ut compleat ārida arēna...

Do you see the top of the mountain, shorn off,
its majestic heights removed?
Here, pines had stood,
where now the darnel grows.
There, the brook unfolded its streams
between the shadowy oaks,
and the scaly flock played in the warm waters.
Look, how the dry sand now fills their haunts...