Doggerel by a Senior Citizen

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From: Doggerel by a Senior Citizen

W.H. Auden (1907-73)

Dare any call Permissiveness An educational success? Saner those class-rooms which I sat in, Compelled to study Greek and Latin.
Doggerel by a Senior Citizen
Latin by Timothy Adès: profuit, heu! puero discenda licentia nulli: sanius, heu! linguae, Graece, Latine, tuae.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

More poems by W.H. Auden...

A Subaltern’s Love Song

A Subaltern’s Love Song

Sir John Betjeman (1906-84)

A Subaltern’s Love Song
Miss J Hunter Dunn, Miss J Hunter Dunn, Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament - you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won. The warm-handled racket is back in its press, But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less. Her father's euonymus shines as we walk, And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk, And cool the verandah that welcomes us in To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin. The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath, The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path, As I struggle with double-end evening tie, For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I. On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with     sports, And westering, questioning settles the sun On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall, The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall, My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair And there on the landing's the light on your hair. By roads 'not adopted', by woodlanded ways, She drove to the club in the late summer haze, Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, I can hear from the car-park the dance has begun. Oh! full Surrey twilight! importunate band! Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand! Around us are Rovers and Austins afar, Above us, the intimate roof of the car, And here on my right is the girl of my choice, With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice, And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said, And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead. We sat in the car park till twenty to one And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.
A Subaltern’s Love Song
Filia Venanti, castris te finxit Apollo,     tinxit et aere artus, pinxit et arte genas. strinximus undecima clavas (pila pellitur!) hora,     altera tu vehemens, strenuus alter ego! tu superas pueros motu, cita qualis hirundo:     laetor, inops puncti; ter, quater ipsa notas. risisti, pariter secura ac sedula victrix:     conficior forma, pulchra Atalanta, tua. filia Venanti, Venanti filia nostri,     palma tua est: uror, laetor, amore feror! conditur in prelum capulo modo clava tepente,     sed mea me victrix (stat coma!) semper amat. tendimus ad patrem. Venanti euonymus albet;     fundimus incepta, qua casa, verba via; porticus excepit zephyris; nova nuntiat aether;     iuniperus citro tingitur, apta bibi. sub thalamo lucet maculoso semita musco;     calda aqua mi resonat; conifer hortus olet. papilione agitor duplici: fas cingere collum!     haud aequi petimus, qua pila parva, choros. at tua braca chlamysque iacent, thalamique renidet     pariete lacteola plurima palma pilae. sol tetigitque trabem tingitque, Atalanta, fenestram:     occidit, exquirens quid tibi fata parent. Niliacae splendent species in pariete pictae:     aula micat taedis: nos rota parva manet. quernus ubi gradus est, ibi sum; laqueata supersunt,     crine refulgenti qua, mea vita, nites. autumno petimus - lora ipsa dat - aere turbam,     quo nemore, aedilis, non tua cura via est! venimus in vicum sero multum aere sonantem;     boleti et viridi germine pinus olent. filia Venanti, Venanti filia nostri,     sistimus: ingeminat coeptus in aure chorus. tibia nil cessans! perfecta crepuscula campi!     laetor, Amazoniam me tetigisse manum. undique circumstant bigae, procul undique currus;     clam nos sub grato culmine noster habet: naribus incurvis capior vocisque canore:     unica mi laevo dextra puella sedet. ecquid haruspicii vetat adfectare choreos?     fragrat odor pallae: conscia lingua tacet! quattuor in curru sub nocte remansimus horas,     tempore et ex illo sponsa Atalanta mihist.
My Latin: published in Oxford Graduate

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

More poems by Sir John Betjeman...

A selection from 'Zoo Poems'.

Ogden Nash (1902-71)

His English, my Latin.
A selection from 'Zoo Poems'.
Some primal TERMITE knocked on wood And tasted it, and found it good, And that is why your cousin May Fell through the parlor floor today. THE COW is of the bovine ilk; One end is moo, the other milk. THE RHINO is a homely beast, For human eyes he’s not a feast. Farewell, farewell, you old rhinoceros, I’ll stare at something less prepocerous. I don’t mind EELS/ Except as meals./ And the way they feels. The POULTRIES Let’s think of eggs./ They have no legs. Chickens come from eggs/ But they have legs. The plot thickens;/ Eggs come from chickens, But have no legs under ’em./What a conundrum! You get some words regarding mice, You get a kitty in a trice. By two a.m. or thereabouts, The mouse is in, the CAT is out. It dawns upon you, in your cot, The mouse is silent, the cat is not. Instead of kitty, says your spouse, You should have got another mouse. The truth I do not stretch or shove When I state that the DOG is full of love. I’ve also found, by actual test, A wet dog is the lovingest. Behold the DUCK. It does not cluck. A cluck it lacks. It quacks. It is specially fond of a puddle or pond. When it dines or sups, It bottoms ups. The OYSTER’s a confusing suitor; It’s masc., and fem., and even neuter. At times it wonders, may what come, Am I husband, wife, or chum. The Lord in His wisdom made the FLY, And then forgot to tell us why. The song of CANARIES Never varies, And when they’re moulting They’re pretty revolting. The CAMEL has a single hump; The dromedary, two; Or else the other way around, I’m never sure. Are you? In the world of MULES There are no rules The PANTHER is like a leopard except that it hasn't been peppered. If you should behold a panther crouch, prepare to say "ouch". Better yet, if called by a panther, don't anther.
IPSE SCRIPSI pristinus est tarmes quia delectabile lignum, nunc tua perrupit Maia propinqua trabem. vacca genusque boum speciemque bovaria fertur; mugit ut ante pecus, pone homo mulget item. rhinoceros, oculis hominum non dulcis, abesto, foede! neque inspiciam postera posta prius. non piget anguillae. nihilominus haec duo juro: non sinere ad mensam, non adhibere manum. ova cano: pede egent. pedem habens avis editur ovis, ova ave. quid? pede egent. o dubia Oedipodis! uxor adest, domus est; mus denique. verba locuta in murem; rapide constat habere catum. nocte domi stat mus; catus errat. inhaeret imago: dum somnis careas, hic canit, ille tacet. ‘stulte! catum fallis damnosum’ ait uxor ‘adeptus : mus instar melius muris emendus erat.’ est canis omnis amans. nec fit violentia vero. hoc ego cognovi: plus canis udus amat. non anas ut gallina crepit; petit illa lacunas. quotquot edunt anates, exposuere nates! ostrea amans dubia est, quia mascula, femina, neutra est : ‘sumne vir, an mulier, sumne sodalis ego?’ musca opus est Domini. cur sit, memorare nequimus: mente Creatoris justificare cadit. non, fringilla, places. nunquam tua carmina mutas; plurima olet toto putrida pluma solo. unus utri tumor an duo sint, ego nescio vere: quotque camelus habet, dic mihi, quotque dromas. DEFICIVNT MVLIS RATIO LEX REGVLA NORMA es pardus, panthera, sed haud maculatur imago! ~ si panthera adhibet membra, ululare para ; murmura pantherae tua parce referre vocanti ; ~ si salit illa, time ; si sonat illa, tace.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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I Don’t Know Which Direction the Wind is Blowing

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I Don’t Know Which Direction the Wind is Blowing

Xu Zhimo (1897-1931)

Latin Version by Timothy Adès
I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, In the dream’s gentle wave lingering. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Her tenderness, my fascination. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Sweetness is the glory of the dream. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Her betrayal, my depression. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Heartbroken in the gloom of the dream. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Dimness is the glory of the dream.
I Don’t Know Which Direction the Wind is Blowing
nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   undulat ut somnus, lene liquore moror. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   quippe puella bonast: captor et allicior. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   dulcedo, somni gloria magna mei! nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   tristitiam tradit falsa puella mihi. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   in somni tenebris torqueor, excrucior. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   caligo, somni gloria maesta mei!

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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My Latin version

Adlestrop

Edward Thomas (1878-1917)

Adlestrop
Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop—only the name And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky. And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
My Latin version
non mihi mente tuum cadit indelebile nomen, ~~Selda, ubi inassueta compede currus iter sisterat. excelso tempestas torrida sole, ~~deficiens mensis Junius, alta dies. sibilat aere vapor, purgat mala gutture tussis; ~~nullus homo venit limine, nullus abit. solum, Selda, tuum nomen, tu portus amoene, ~~nil aliud visumst! herba humilisque salix et grandes salices, ulmaria pendula filis ~~flos redolens, foeni plurima congeries, arida, sola, nitens, immota ut in aere nubes ~~exiguae; gaudes voce propinqua brevi tu, merula! et procul hinc, ubi iam nebulosior aer, ~~pinnati numerant carmina grata chori, argutas volucrum quot habes, Oxonia, turbas, ~~quot regio Glevi Nervia condit aves.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Quo sitis ire mihi

Sea Fever

John Masefield (1878-1967)

Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.   I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.   I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Quo sitis ire mihi
quo sitis ire mihi, nihil est nisi pontus et aer. ~~ nave petam celsa sidere fisus aquas! vela tremant, sonet Eurus, agat vis torva gubernum, ~~sit nova pulla dies, acre vapore mare. exagitant clarae surgenti gurgite voces: ~~Tethyos infaustum iussa negare deae! hoc satis est: canis moveantur nubibus aurae, ~~spuma volet ventis, carmine mergus ovet. me, Neptune, iuvant via mergi parsque balaenae, ~~ vita peregrini, saevior Eurus acu. sint mihi sermones hilares comitisque cachinni, ~~et, cum res fuerit, somnia amoena, sopor.
My Latin elegiacs

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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The Rebel

The Rebel

Don Marquis (1878-1937)

His English, my Latin
The Rebel
NO DOUBT the ordered worlds speed on With purpose in their wings; No doubt the ordered songs are sweet Each worthy angel sings; And doubtless it is wise to heed The ordered words of Kings; But how the heart leaps up to greet The headlong, rebel flight, Whenas some reckless meteor Blazes across the night! Some comet--Byron--Lucifer-- Has dared to Be, and fight! No doubt but it is safe to dwell Where ordered duties are; No doubt the cherubs earn their wage Who wind each ticking star; No doubt the system is quite right!-- Sane, ordered, regular; But how the rebel fires the soul Who dares the strong gods' ire! Each Byron!--Shelley!--Lucifer!-- And all the outcast choir That chant when some Prometheus Leaps up to steal Jove's fire!
The Rebel
scilicet instructos cantat pius angelus hymnos; ~~scilicet instructa est finis ad orbis iter; scilicet et regum fas iussa instructa tueri; ~~scilicet ut volitant sidera, meta datur. at bene praecipitem gaudemus adesse rebellem, ~~acris uti caeca nocte cometa nitet: ausus qui tranare Tagum subit Hellespontum, ~~ausus item vivo proelia ferre Deo! scilicet incolumes, instructa ubi pensa, manemus ; ~~scilicet angelici munera rite merent, machina queis cura est stimulanda ut sidera currant: ~~scilicet imperio lex bona, firma salus! cordibus at quales fovet ille rebellibus ignes, ~~ausus et irato probra adhibere deo! liberat hic Graecos; comes alter flebilis oras ~~mersus ad Italicas, ceu Palinurus, obit; necnon Lucifer ipse, Promethea quisquis et exsul ~~concelebrat flammam subripuisse Jovi! 
(By a New York poet - hint: Sir Quondam)

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Asinus - The Donkey - my Latin

The Donkey

G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

The Donkey
When fishes flew and forests walked    And figs grew upon thorn, Some moment when the moon was blood    Then surely I was born. With monstrous head and sickening cry    And ears like errant wings, The devil’s walking parody    On all four-footed things. The tattered outlaw of the earth,    Of ancient crooked will; Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,    I keep my secret still. Fools! For I also had my hour;    One far fierce hour and sweet: There was a shout about my ears,    And palms before my feet.
Asinus - The Donkey - my Latin
errabant sylvae, pecus et squamosa volabat,    fructus erat sento ficus opima vepri, deinde cruentata surrexit imagine luna:    scilicet in tali tempore natus ego. en asini deforme caput, damnosa querela,    auris inassueto devia pinna loco! me gentem Stygia illudens fabricavit Erinys,    quattuor in pedibus quot properamus iter. ille ego, terrarum lacer et miserabilis exsul:    haeret in antiquo mens mea prava modo. verberer, esuriam, illudar: tamen usque tacebo:    quicquid secreto novimus, usque latet. o stulti! mihi enim fuit et mirabilis hora,    una fuit dudum dulcis et acris item: namque resultavit multorum clamor in aures,    et tetigit nostros plurima palma pedes.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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My Old Man Said ‘Follow the Van...’

Fred W. Leigh (1871-1924) and Charles Collins (1874-1923)

My Old Man Said ‘Follow the Van...’
‘i, sequere’ inquit erus ‘pantechnicon, impigra cursu.’     plaustrum abiit; veterem constat abisse domum. en sequor, en sequitur passer meus ille canorus,     sed pigra, sed pigro corde soluta vagor, nescio qua. vigili suffecto credere noli!     quae via sit, fallor; fallit adempta domus.
My old man said "Follow the van, And don't dilly dally on the way". Off went the van wiv me 'ome packed in it, I followed on wiv me old cock linnet. But I dillied and dallied, dallied and dillied Lost me way and don't know where to roam. Well you can't trust a special like the old time coppers When you can't find your way 'ome.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

More poems by Fred W. Leigh (1871-1924) and Charles Collins...

Bons Mots

Hilariores Nugae

Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953)

Translated into Latin by Timothy Adès
Hilariores Nugae
When I am dead, I hope it may be said: “His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.” The accursed power which stands on privilege     (and goes with women, champagne and bridge) Broke - and democracy resumed her reign     (which goes with bridge and women and champagne. Good morning, Algernon: Good morning, Percy. Good morning, Mrs Roebeck. Christ have mercy! I'm tired of love; I'm still more tired of rhyme; but money gives me pleasure all the time.
Bons Mots
umbra, rubens peccator, amer modo versificator. perdidit imperium fatale superbior ordo:     tres aderant comites alea, Bacchus, amor. reddita iam plebis florebat Roma tribunis:     tres aderant comites tessera, vina, Venus. salve, Marce. Mari, salve. Curiatia, salve.     o di immortales, parcite supplicibus ! lassat Amor ; plus Musa ; manet iucundius Aurum.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

More poems by Hilaire Belloc...