Saturday, August 19, 2017
From The Clouds, by Aristophanes, translated by Peter D. Arnott
"I'll yield the privilege to him,
And out of his own mouth I'll take
The thoughts, the sentiments and syllogisms
To put him down."
From page 38, this edition
Friday, August 18, 2017
From The Echoing Green: Poems of Fields, Meadows, and Grasses, edited by Cecily Parks
THIS LAWN A CARPET ALL ALIVE
THIS Lawn, a carpet all alive With shadows flung from leaves--to strive In dance, amid a press Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields Of Worldlings revelling in the fields Of strenuous idleness; Less quick the stir when tide and breeze Encounter, and to narrow seas Forbid a moment's rest; The medley less when boreal Lights Glance to and fro, like aery Sprites To feats of arms addrest! Yet, spite of all this eager strife, This ceaseless play, the genuine life That serves the stedfast hours, Is in the grass beneath, that grows Unheeded, and the mute repose Of sweetly-breathing flowers.
-- William Wordsworth
Thursday, August 17, 2017
From Lysistra, by Aristophanes, translated by Douglas Parker
"The beast in me is eager and fit for a brawl.
Just rile me a bit and she'll kick down the wall.
You'll bawl to your friends that you've no balls at asll."
From page 68, this edition