Archive for November, 2018

EXILE HURTS

Posted: 30/11/2018 by vequinox in Literature

Ο Πόνος της Εξορίας

 

Μακριά, πέρα μακριά

καλεί η ελευθερία

κι εδώ η εξορία αλλοιώνει

εγκλωβίζει, διαπερνά

μας φοβερίζει και μας καρφώνει

με μαχαίρι κοφτερό

 

Η εξορία βυθίζεται

στην ψυχή μας

και τόσο πονεί

σαν να `χεις μπροστά σου

τη γυναίκα π’ αγαπάς

και δεν μπορείς να τη φιλήσεις

 

Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//Translated by Manolis Aligizakis

 

Exile Hurts

 Far away, freedom calls
and here exile corrodes,
threatens us, envelops us,
penetrates us, and stabs
as if it were a dagger.

The exile enters the depth of the soul
and hurts,
so much, as if one has before him
the woman he loves,
but is not allowed to kiss.

 

© Julio Pavanetti, Uruguay, 1954

Translation Germain Droogenbroodt – Stanley Barkan

From the book “Tiempo de cristales rotos”
***

El exilio duele // lejos, la libertad reclama/y aquí el exilio es el que muerde;/nos amenaza, nos envuelve,/nos atraviesa, y se nos clava/igual que si fuese una daga.// En lo más profundo del alma/se introduce el exilio y duele,/tanto, como tener enfrente/a la mujer a quién se ama,/sin permiso para besarla.

 

 

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Fragmentary Friday: The Invention of Writing

Posted: 23/11/2018 by vequinox in Literature

SENTENTIAE ANTIQUAE

Euripides, Palamedes (fr. 578)

“Alone once I set out drugs of forgetfulness,
Voiceless, yet speaking—when I made the syllables
I discovered as letters for men to see
So one who was not present over the wide sea
Knows well everything happening in his home,
And as someone dies he speaks for those writing the measure of his wealth
For his children and for the one who accepts it to know.
And the evils that cause people to fall into strife,
A record dissolves–it does not permit the speaking of lies.”

Τὰ τῆς γε λήθης φάρμακ’ ὀρθώσας μόνος
ἄφωνα καὶ φωνοῦντα συλλαβάς τε θεὶς
ἐξεῦρον ἀνθρώποισι γράμματ’ εἰδέναι,
ὥστ’ οὐ παρόντα ποντίας ὑπὲρ πλακὸς
τἀκεῖ κατ’ οἴκους πάντ’ ἐπίστασθαι καλῶς,
παισίν τ’ ἀποθνῄσκοντα χρημάτων μέτρον
γράψαντας εἰπεῖν, τὸν λαβόντα δ’ εἰδέναι.
ἃ δ’ εἰς ἔριν πίπτουσιν ἀνθρώποις κακά,
δέλτος διαιρεῖ, κοὐκ ἐᾷ ψευδῆ λέγειν.

fr. 580

“Agamemnon, human beings have every…

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Interesting Literature

A commentary on one of Joyce’s shortest Dubliners stories

‘Araby’ is one of the early stories in James Joyce’s Dubliners, the 1914 collection of short stories which is now regarded as one of the landmark texts of modernist literature. At the time, sales were poor, with just 379 copies being sold in the first year (famously, 120 of these were bought by Joyce himself). And yet ‘Araby’ shows just what might have initially baffled readers coming to James Joyce’s fiction for the first time, and what marked him out as a brilliant new writer. But before we get to an analysis of ‘Araby’ (which can be read here), a brief summary of the story’s plot – what little ‘plot’ there is.

In summary, then: ‘Araby’ is narrated by a young boy, who describes the Dublin street where he lives. As the story progresses, the narrator realises that he…

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Interesting Literature

A reading of a short political poem

‘Epitaph on a Tyrant’ is one of Auden’s short masterpieces. In just six lines, W. H. Auden (1907-63) manages to say so much about the nature of tyranny. You can read ‘Epitaph on a Tyrant’ here, before proceeding to our short analysis of this powerful poem that remains all too relevant today. We’re going to go through the poem line by line and combine our summary of ‘Epitaph on a Tyrant’ with a close textual analysis of it, since every line yields new observations and questions.

W. H. Auden spent some time in Berlin during the 1930s, and it was here that he probably wrote ‘Epitaph on a Tyrant’, which was published in 1939, the year that the Second World War broke out. The specific tyrant Auden had in mind, then, was probably Adolf Hitler, though the poem can be analysed as a…

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SENTENTIAE ANTIQUAE

Solon, Epistle II:

“Note that the most terrible man has laid hold of tyranny. He started with demagoguery, and then he feigned some injury to himself. He then ran to the courts and shouted, saying that he had suffered at the hands of his enemies, and thought that he should be provided with a guard of four hundred men. They paid no heed to my warnings, and gave him the men. These men were club-bearers. After that, he subjugated the people. In vain did I strive to free the poor from servitude – they are all Peisistratus’ slaves now.”

ἴσθι γὰρ τὸν ἄνδρα, ὦ ἑταῖρε, δεινότατα ἁψάμενον τῆς τυραννίδος. ἤρξατο μὲν δημαγωγεῖν, εἶτα δὲ ἑαυτῷ τραύματα ποιήσας, παρελθὼν ἐφ’ ἡλιαίαν ἐβόα φάμενος πεπονθέναι ταῦτα ὑπὸ τῶν ἐχθρῶν, καὶ φύλακας ἠξίου παρασχεῖν οἱ τετρακοσίους τοὺς νεωτάτους. οἳ δὲ ἀνηκουστήσαντές μου παρέσχον τοὺς ἄνδρας. οὗτοι δὲ ἦσαν κορυνηφόροι. καὶ μετὰ τοῦτο τὸν…

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