IN A DEAD TONGUE

 

I thought I’d amuse myself this week and translate one of my poems into Latin. Ah Latin! It makes everything sound noble, even my poems. Yes there’s a language with Gravitas. Anyway the English version follows but for a bit of fun I’d encourage my readers to try reading it aloud in the Latin. Hell, wrap a sheet around you and roll your tounge round those sonorous syllables as you strut & fret in your imaginary Forum.

(Pronounciation hint. Never stress the last syllable of a Latin word. Hence always stress the first syllable of a two syllable word. And roll those RRRs!)

You may even get the gist of it- after all, some 20% or so of the English language is Latin based, so much will sound familiar.

And if any of my learned readers care to write in and correct my atrocious Latin grammar I’d be only too grateful! (Offers to translate into medieval French or ancient Sumerian will also be gratefully accepted)

Don’t worry regular readers, I’ll be back doing my usual ranting in the lingua fraca next week.

Until then..

AMATORES MEUS

 

ILLAE VENIUNT,

GERANT PERSONAE ET PLUMAE.

FEROS MUNUS,

ILLAE LOQUOR LINGUAE

INCENDIUM ET GEMMA.

ILLAE PROLABOR,

INANIMA MEUS

SIMILIS SERPENS,

ILLARUM LUCEO OCULUS

ILLUMINO CUM SECRETUM

ET DESIDERO.

DERIDIO,

ILLAE TRANSIDIGO COR ARDENS

ITERUM

ET ITERUM.

 

ILLARUM ORIGO MYSTERIUM.

ILLAE VELAMEN MUTO PRAETERITUM TEMPUS

CUM FABULA.

ILLAE EXEOS

INTER TEMPESTUS FURENS,

AUT VANESCO IN SILENTIUM

ISTE ULTIMUS SIGNUM

INSCRIBO CUM LABRUM-PIGMENTUM

DE FRACTIS SPECULUM SUPERFICIES.

 

***

What I meant to say was..

 

MY LOVERS

 

They Come,

wearing masks and feathers.

Bearing gifts,

they speak in tounges

of fire and jewels.

They glide

into my life

like serpents,

their shining eyes

alight with Secrets

and Desire.

Laughing,

as they pierce my burning heart

again

and again.

 

Their Origins are Mystery,

they veil the shifting Past

with Myth.

They depart,

in the midst of Tempests raging

or vanish in the Silence

of that final heiroglyph

scrawled in lipstick

across the broken mirror surface.

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists AND the Church of the Universe.

DE GUSTIBUS NON EST DISPUTANDUM

***

***

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~ by reverendhellfire on April 29, 2012.

4 Responses to “IN A DEAD TONGUE”

  1. Powerful; Unfortunately even love is masked today & masks beneath masks till it’s cold bloodless core is bare..

    • hmm a grim assessment. Personally I like masks, I think they reveal archtypal aspects of ourselves. As to the poem, I think in part I was trying to say that all those different masks are really aspects of the Goddess, her many avatars, her shifting forms.
      They came and most eventually went, but my life was enriched thereby their ephemeral manifestations
      And hopefullly I helped them on their journeys also.

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