Jan. 19th, 2012

hawkwing_lb: (Default)

ἔσται τάδ᾽, ἔσται, μὴ τρέσῃς: ἐπεὶ σ᾽ ἐγὼ
καὶ ζῶσαν εἶχον, καὶ θανοῦσ᾽ ἐμὴ γυνὴ
μόνη κεκλήσῃ, κοὔτις ἀντὶ σοῦ ποτε
τόνδ᾽ ἄνδρα νύμφη Θεσσαλὶς προσφθέγξεται.
οὐκ ἔστιν οὕτως οὔτε πατρὸς εὐγενοῦς
οὔτ᾽ εἶδος ἄλλως ἐκπρεπεστάτη γυνή.
ἅλις δὲ παίδων: τῶνδ᾽ ὄνησιν εὔχομαι
θεοῖς γενέσθαι: σοῦ γὰρ οὐκ ὠνήμεθα.


It will be thus, it will be, don't fear: when you
[were] living I had you, and in dying you will have born
the name of my only wife, and no Thessalian bride will
ever in your place address this husband.
For there is not another woman so well-born of a father
or so distinguished in form.
And of children enough: this advantage I pray
to the gods may come to pass: for we won't have the benefit of you.

οἴσω δὲ πένθος οὐκ ἐτήσιον τὸ σὸν
ἀλλ᾽ ἔστ᾽ ἂν αἰὼν οὑμὸς ἀντέχῃ, γύναι,
στυγῶν μὲν ἥ μ᾽ ἔτικτεν, ἐχθαίρων δ᾽ ἐμὸν
πατέρα: λόγῳ γὰρ ἦσαν οὐκ ἔργῳ φίλοι.
σὺ δ᾽ ἀντιδοῦσα τῆς ἐμῆς τὰ φίλτατα
ψυχῆς ἔσωσας. ἆρά μοι στένειν πάρα
τοιᾶσδ᾽ ἁμαρτάνοντι συζύγου σέθεν;

And I will carry grief - not for a year for you
but as long as my life it'll last, woman,
abhorring she who bore me, hating my
father: for not in thought or in deed are they beloved.
And you, offering to give instead the most precious things,
you saved my soul/life. [Shouldn't I] mourn on account of
this, being deprived of a wife like you?

παύσω δὲ κώμους συμποτῶν θ᾽ ὁμιλίας
στεφάνους τε μοῦσάν θ᾽ ἣ κατεῖχ᾽ ἐμοὺς δόμους.
345οὐ γάρ ποτ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἂν βαρβίτου θίγοιμ᾽ ἔτι
οὔτ᾽ ἂν φρέν᾽ ἐξάραιμι πρὸς Λίβυν λακεῖν
αὐλόν: σὺ γάρ μου τέρψιν ἐξείλου βίου.

I'll cease from revels and from the crowned companies of revellers,
and from music which used to fall in my rooms.
And I'll never touch a many-stringed instrument again,
nor will my heart lift to sound aloud a Libyan
flute: for you plucked out for yourself my life's delight.

σοφῇ δὲ χειρὶ τεκτόνων δέμας τὸ σὸν
εἰκασθὲν ἐν λέκτροισιν ἐκταθήσεται,
ᾧ προσπεσοῦμαι καὶ περιπτύσσων χέρας
ὄνομα καλῶν σὸν τὴν φίλην ἐν ἀγκάλαις
δόξω γυναῖκα καίπερ οὐκ ἔχων ἔχειν:
ψυχρὰν μέν, οἶμαι, τέρψιν, ἀλλ᾽ ὅμως βάρος
ψυχῆς ἀπαντλοίην ἄν. ἐν δ᾽ ὀνείρασιν
φοιτῶσά μ᾽ εὐφραίνοις ἄν: ἡδὺ γὰρ φίλους
κἀν νυκτὶ λεύσσειν, ὅντιν᾽ ἂν παρῇ χρόνον.

From the cunning hands of craftsmen your form,
represented by an image, will be stretched out in the bed,
which I will fall upon and while enfolding [it] in my arms
and calling your name in the crook of my arms
I'll imagine I hold my beloved wife, though I don't.
Cold delight, I think, but nonetheless
I'll lighten my soul's burden. And
haunting my dreams you'll delight me. For [it's] pleasant
to see our loved ones at night, for whatever time it's permitted.

*scrabbles at language*

*forgets vocabulary*

*cheats with other translations*
hawkwing_lb: (DA2 isabela facepalm)
[livejournal.com profile] jennygadget asks: What's at the core of the (fantasy) genre?.

What would you consider “core genre?” Both in terms of definition and representative titles?

(the genre of the book in question is fantasy, but really I'm more curious how people define any genre - especially the kinds of stories that are "central" vs. along the edges, so answer as your whims take you)

Does this term even make any sense to you?

I'm not all that sure. I think it's more of a line of descent and sprawling family tree, myself. But it's an interesting question. (I like those.)


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