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"E ben hai che temer, che agevol cosa Fora cader la luna in sul tuo campo." -- Giacomo Leopardi
Tithing
(a translation of "Decima" by Calderon de la Barca)
You pay no tithe and walk quite proud in silk that's spun by little worms that, putting it in Christian terms, right now are laboring on your shroud. Recall: in Hell worms are allowed just payment for their workmanship. How can you boast of limb and lip, the riches of which you're possessed, when some worms keep you gaily dressed and other worms have you to strip?Translation © Carl Selph, 1999The Wise Man
(a translation from Calderon de la Barca)There was a wise man once, so poor and suffering he barely stayed alive eating some herbs picked from the roadside ditch. One day he asked his heart, Is anyone as poor and sad as I? He turned his head just then and saw another sage, on ragged knees, gleaning the brown-edged leaves he'd thrown away.Translation © Carl Selph, 1999The Poor Man Thinks
(a modern translation of "Le Pauvre Pense" by Arthur Rimbaud)
Maybe sundown will come while I'm having a drink in some old country town and I'll drop dead content, since I'm a patient type. Getting through these hard times, some silver in my jeans, better head for the north or south? -- green rows of vines. Dreaming again! No good. Why try that road I know? If I set out once more, the bum I've always been, the door of that green pub will not swing in for me.Translation © Carl Selph, 1999A Fragment
(a modern translation of "Un Frammento" by Giacomo Leopardi)Alcetas Listen, Melissus: I want to tell you a dream I had last night. Now I see the moon, It all comes back to me. I was standing at the window Looking at the sky over the pasture, When all of a sudden the moon came loose; And it seemed that as it fell it grew in size Until it hit ka-boom in the middle of the field -- About as big as a bucket -- spewing forth A cloud of sparks that sputtered loud As a live coal quenched in water. That's just how The moon, there in the field, went dark, Slowly, slowly turning black, and the grass Around it going up in smoke. Then I Looked again at the sky and saw something -- A gleaming, or a trace -- really, a hole, From which it had been torn; and the sight Froze me to the bone. I'm still upset. Melissus You're right to feel afraid; the moon Just might detach and tumble into your field. Alcetas Who knows? Don't we often see the falling stars On summer nights? Melissus With so many stars, of course Not much is lost if one or another goes; Thousands are still there. But we have only a single Moon in the sky. Except in dreams, No one has ever seen it fall.Translation © Carl Selph, 1999All text on this page is copyrighted by Carl Selph and appears here by permission. All rights reserved. It may not be archived beyond one personal electronic copy for offline reading; such a copy must include the entire text of the present notice and the author's name. It may not be printed, posted on a web-site, distributed publicly or privately, used or quoted in whole or in part, or published in any manner or form whatsoever without the author's explicit permission. E-mail Wordreign to contact Carl Selph and your request will be promptly forwarded.
Carl Selph Poetry Index Original Writing Page Images from Myst © 1993 Cyan, Inc. and Riven © 1997 Cyan, Inc. All rights reserved. Myst® and Riven® are registered trademarks of Cyan, Inc. Used by permission.