These translations used to be hosted on my Geocities site but are now posted here because Geocities is going to be shut down.
Jingle Bells
Nives, glacies, nox pueritia!
Risus decet nunc, decent carmina!
Laetos iuvat nos, ire per agros,
Traha fert velociter, et cachinnemus nos!
Tinniat, tinniat, tintinnabulum!
Labimur in glacie post mulum curtum!
O Come All Ye Faithful (The Latin is the original version of this song.)
Adeste, Fideles
Laeti triumphantes
Venite, venite
In Bethlehem!
Natum videte
Regem angelorum.
Venite, adoremus!
Venite, adoremus!
Venite, adoremus
Dominum!
Silent Night
Silens nox, sancta nox
Placida, lucida,
Virginem et puerum,
Dulcem atque tenerum,
Somno opprime,
Somno opprime.
O Little Town of Bethlehem
O Bethlehem in collibus
Quam tacite dormis,
Et spectant alta sidera
De caeruleis caelis!
Sed in obscuris viis
Tu hodie tenes,
Aeterna luce fulgente,
Annorum omnes spes!
Joy to the World
Laetissimus
Accipiat
Iam mundus Dominum
Dum omnia
In corda nos
Accipimus illum!
Accipimus illum!
Accip-, Accip- imus
Illum!
We Three Kings
Orientis reges tres
Procul dona portantes
Per campos et montes imus
Stellam illam sequentes.
O stella potens et mira,
Stella regalis pulcra,
Semper movens ad occasum
Duc nos ad claram lucem.
Hark the Herald Angels
En canentes angeli:
"Gloria Regi infanti;
Pax in terra, et Deus
Concors cum mortalibus."
Laeti, omnes populi,
Cum caelestibus iuncti,
Praedicate, "Nunc Christus
Est in Bethlehem natus."
En canentes angeli:
"Gloria Regi infanti."
Veni, Veni, Emmanuel
(Original Latin, words from traditional 8th century antiphons)
1. Veni, O Sapientia,
Quae hic disponis omnia,
Veni, viam prudentiae
Ut doceas et gloriae. Refrain
Refrain:
Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.
2. Veni, Veni Adonai!
Qui populo in Sinai
Legem dedisti vertice,
In Majestate gloriae. Refrain
3. Veni, O Jesse virgula,
Ex hostis tuos ungula,
De specu tuos tartari
Educ et antro barathri. Refrain
4. Veni, Clavis Davidica,
Regna reclude caelica,
Fac iter tutum superum,
Et claude vias inferum. Refrain
5. Veni, Veni O Oriens!
Solare nos adveniens,
Noctis depelle nebulas,
Dirasque noctis tenebras. Refrain
6. Veni, Veni, Rex gentium,
veni, Redemptor omnium,
Ut salvas tuos famulos
Peccati sibi conscios. Refrain
7. Veni, Veni Emmanuel!
Captivum solve Israel!
Qui gemit in exsilio,
Privatus Dei Filio.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Latin Translations of English Children's Songs
These translations used to be hosted on my Geocities site but are now posted here because Geocities is going to be shut down.
Mica, Mica, Parva Stella ("Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star")
Mica, mica, parva stella
Miror quaenam sis tam bella
Splendens eminus in illo
Alba velut gemma caelo.
I, I In Lintre ("Row, Row, Row Your Boat")
This one is my own translation.
I, i in lintre
Lente sub flumen
Laete, laete, laete, laete
Vita (e)st somnium.
I, II, III Barbari ("1 Little, 2 Little, 3 Little Indians")
Unus duo tres barbari
Quattour quinque sex barbari
Septem octo novem barbari
Et decem barbari
Nonne Dormis? ("Are You Sleeping?")
Nonne dormis, nonne dormis?
Frater mi, frater mi.
Sona matutinas, sona matutinas
Ding dong ding
Ding dong ding
Agricola Habet Fundum ("Old Macdonald Had a Farm")
Agricola habet fundum.
I-AE-I-AE-O
In hoc fundo est ____
I-AE-I-AE-O
Cum ____ ____ hic
______ _____ illic
Hic ____ illic______
Ubique _____ _____
Agricola habet fundum.
I-AE-I-AE-O
pig/porcus(sus)- oenc, oenc
donkey/asinus- i au, i au
cow/vacca(bos)- mu, mu
horse/equus- ne, ne
dog/canis- wuf, wuf
chicken/gallina- cluc, cluc
cat/feles- miau, miau
duck/anas- quec, quec
goose/anser- haunc, haunc
got/caper- maa, maa
Iac et Iill ("Jack and Jill")
Iac et Iill quaerentes fontem
Ascendebat parvum montem.
Ille, cadens, fregit frontem
Trahens secum hanc insontem.
Tres Caeci Mures ("Three Blind Mice")
Mures tres, mures tres
Caeci currunt, caeci currunt
Sequuntur sponsam agricolae
Ab ea abscissae sunt caudulae
Est plenius nihil stultitiae
Quam mures tres, mures tres.
Felix Dies ("Happy Birthday")
Felix dies tibi
Felix dies tibi
Felix dies, ____
Felix dies tibi
Mica, Mica, Parva Stella ("Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star")
Mica, mica, parva stella
Miror quaenam sis tam bella
Splendens eminus in illo
Alba velut gemma caelo.
I, I In Lintre ("Row, Row, Row Your Boat")
This one is my own translation.
I, i in lintre
Lente sub flumen
Laete, laete, laete, laete
Vita (e)st somnium.
I, II, III Barbari ("1 Little, 2 Little, 3 Little Indians")
Unus duo tres barbari
Quattour quinque sex barbari
Septem octo novem barbari
Et decem barbari
Nonne Dormis? ("Are You Sleeping?")
Nonne dormis, nonne dormis?
Frater mi, frater mi.
Sona matutinas, sona matutinas
Ding dong ding
Ding dong ding
Agricola Habet Fundum ("Old Macdonald Had a Farm")
Agricola habet fundum.
I-AE-I-AE-O
In hoc fundo est ____
I-AE-I-AE-O
Cum ____ ____ hic
______ _____ illic
Hic ____ illic______
Ubique _____ _____
Agricola habet fundum.
I-AE-I-AE-O
pig/porcus(sus)- oenc, oenc
donkey/asinus- i au, i au
cow/vacca(bos)- mu, mu
horse/equus- ne, ne
dog/canis- wuf, wuf
chicken/gallina- cluc, cluc
cat/feles- miau, miau
duck/anas- quec, quec
goose/anser- haunc, haunc
got/caper- maa, maa
Iac et Iill ("Jack and Jill")
Iac et Iill quaerentes fontem
Ascendebat parvum montem.
Ille, cadens, fregit frontem
Trahens secum hanc insontem.
Tres Caeci Mures ("Three Blind Mice")
Mures tres, mures tres
Caeci currunt, caeci currunt
Sequuntur sponsam agricolae
Ab ea abscissae sunt caudulae
Est plenius nihil stultitiae
Quam mures tres, mures tres.
Felix Dies ("Happy Birthday")
Felix dies tibi
Felix dies tibi
Felix dies, ____
Felix dies tibi
Attis, Catullus 63
This translation used to be hosted on my Geocities site but has been reposted here because Geocities is going to be shut down.
"Attis" Poem 63 of Catullus
copyright by Abram Ring (April 2005)
The square brackets [] around alternate translations indicate places where the correct text is subject to scholarly debate.
Over the deep sea, Attis, sped in a swift ship,
has just touched the Phrygian grove with quickened foot
and to the dark, wood-crowned haunts of the goddess flown—
he, driven there by maddening rage, wand'rer of mind,
hacked off the groin's burden with sharp flint,
and just then felt the remnant limbs are not a man's,
and, while yet spotting the ground with fresh blood,
quickened she snatches the light drum in white hand,
Your light drum, Cybebe, Your sacriments, Mother.
Shaking the hollow hide of young bull in hand
she trembling begins her song with her company,
"Come, fly to Cybebe's high groves, Gallae, now!
Now fly you errant flocks of the Dindym Mistress
seeking strange places just as exiles wandering
Following my cult, my comrades, by my lead,
you've come cross the crashing deep thru storm,
you've unmanned yourself for great hate of Love.
Cheer your heart, ladies, with quickened wand'ring.
Leave off delay, go now, follow on with me
to the Phrygian home of Cybebe, and to her groves
where sounds the noise of the cymbal and drums
where blows the Phrygian flute and its slender reed
where Maenad heads ivy-bound toss madly about,
and they sing the sacred rites with the harsh "ululu",
where her errant band so often dances quick--
here must we run in our quickened rompings."
As Attis bastard woman sings to her comrades,
the band fast ululates with quivering tongue;
The light drum resounds; the cymbal crashes;
The quick band races to green Ida in a run.
Raging, gasping, erring she goes, taking breath,
Attis, leader, through the dark grove with drum
like an untrained heifer shirking weight of yoke,
and swift Gallae follow their fast-footed leader
and so tired now come at last to Cybebe's home
and take rest without bread from too much labor.
Lazy sleep covers their eyes with weariness.
The crazy madness of mind leaves in soft rest,
but as the golden face of the Sun with his rays
takes sacred trip thru sky over earth 'nd wild sea
and drives out shades of night on stallions sped.
So now sleep fast fleeing leaves Attis awoken,
from Pasithea's quivering breast recovered.
Here thru easy rest, now without quick craze,
Attis fast now self-takes his [or "her"] acts to heart
and with liquid mind sees what's lost for him [or "her"].
Mind pulsing, still back he [or "she"] raced to the shore;
there scanning the sea's expanse with teary eyes,
he [or "she"] sad addressed his [or "her"] land with wailing calls
"O my father, my mother, my source, my land,
I am fugitive as house-slaves are who choose
to flee their master; I took foot to Ida's groves
so to be among snow and cold beast-haunts
and to come maddening to their dark caves.
Yet now where, whither am I to think you lie;
my very eye stretches to find you for itself.
Still for a brief span mind is free of mad rage.
Am I truly traveled to groves faraway from home?
Will I always miss country, friends, and kin?
Will I not see forum, gym, or stadium again?
Ah me, poor soul, tears must fall still more-
for what kind of form have I never enjoyed-
I've been woman [or "young man"], youth, lad, and boy;
I once was flower of the gym, star of the games.
Doors were packed; steps were warm for me.
Houses were blossom-wreathed by my admirers.
And then when sun rose I still had my bedrooms.
Now shall I be called the gods' maid, Cybebe's slave?
I, a maenad, half-myself, shall I be a gelded man?
Shall I cherish green Ida's cold slopes dressed in snow?
Shall I spend life under the Phrygian's lofty peaks,
where wood-dwelling stag, and tree-roving boar now live?
Just now feeling pain I've inflicted, now I wish else..."
And there the sound quick left from the ruby lips
bearing its weird words to the ears of the gods,
Thence Cybele freeing her cats from their chains
goading the cruel foe of flock she commanded:
"Leave-- Fly, beast, to make him know my rage,
to drive back his step to my grove with your fury--
he who too freely seeks to flee my own commands.
Go beat your back with tail, bear your own lashes!
Make all this land resound with your pained roar;
Toss, my beast, your golden mane on muscled neck!"
So, in threat, spoke Cybebe and loosed bonds from hand.
The very beast drives himself to craze, raging in spirit...
He stalks, he roars, and breaks twigs 'neath errant foot.
Yet, when come to watery stretches of glistening shore
with soft [m. or f.] Attis sighted near the marbled plain of sea--
he attacks. Then mad he [or "she"] flees to those wild groves;
There ever as slave she stays for the span of life.
Great goddess, god Cybebe, god Lady of Dindym,
May your rage ever be far my home, Mistress,
Drive others to fury; Drive others to madness.
"Attis" Poem 63 of Catullus
copyright by Abram Ring (April 2005)
The square brackets [] around alternate translations indicate places where the correct text is subject to scholarly debate.
Over the deep sea, Attis, sped in a swift ship,
has just touched the Phrygian grove with quickened foot
and to the dark, wood-crowned haunts of the goddess flown—
he, driven there by maddening rage, wand'rer of mind,
hacked off the groin's burden with sharp flint,
and just then felt the remnant limbs are not a man's,
and, while yet spotting the ground with fresh blood,
quickened she snatches the light drum in white hand,
Your light drum, Cybebe, Your sacriments, Mother.
Shaking the hollow hide of young bull in hand
she trembling begins her song with her company,
"Come, fly to Cybebe's high groves, Gallae, now!
Now fly you errant flocks of the Dindym Mistress
seeking strange places just as exiles wandering
Following my cult, my comrades, by my lead,
you've come cross the crashing deep thru storm,
you've unmanned yourself for great hate of Love.
Cheer your heart, ladies, with quickened wand'ring.
Leave off delay, go now, follow on with me
to the Phrygian home of Cybebe, and to her groves
where sounds the noise of the cymbal and drums
where blows the Phrygian flute and its slender reed
where Maenad heads ivy-bound toss madly about,
and they sing the sacred rites with the harsh "ululu",
where her errant band so often dances quick--
here must we run in our quickened rompings."
As Attis bastard woman sings to her comrades,
the band fast ululates with quivering tongue;
The light drum resounds; the cymbal crashes;
The quick band races to green Ida in a run.
Raging, gasping, erring she goes, taking breath,
Attis, leader, through the dark grove with drum
like an untrained heifer shirking weight of yoke,
and swift Gallae follow their fast-footed leader
and so tired now come at last to Cybebe's home
and take rest without bread from too much labor.
Lazy sleep covers their eyes with weariness.
The crazy madness of mind leaves in soft rest,
but as the golden face of the Sun with his rays
takes sacred trip thru sky over earth 'nd wild sea
and drives out shades of night on stallions sped.
So now sleep fast fleeing leaves Attis awoken,
from Pasithea's quivering breast recovered.
Here thru easy rest, now without quick craze,
Attis fast now self-takes his [or "her"] acts to heart
and with liquid mind sees what's lost for him [or "her"].
Mind pulsing, still back he [or "she"] raced to the shore;
there scanning the sea's expanse with teary eyes,
he [or "she"] sad addressed his [or "her"] land with wailing calls
"O my father, my mother, my source, my land,
I am fugitive as house-slaves are who choose
to flee their master; I took foot to Ida's groves
so to be among snow and cold beast-haunts
and to come maddening to their dark caves.
Yet now where, whither am I to think you lie;
my very eye stretches to find you for itself.
Still for a brief span mind is free of mad rage.
Am I truly traveled to groves faraway from home?
Will I always miss country, friends, and kin?
Will I not see forum, gym, or stadium again?
Ah me, poor soul, tears must fall still more-
for what kind of form have I never enjoyed-
I've been woman [or "young man"], youth, lad, and boy;
I once was flower of the gym, star of the games.
Doors were packed; steps were warm for me.
Houses were blossom-wreathed by my admirers.
And then when sun rose I still had my bedrooms.
Now shall I be called the gods' maid, Cybebe's slave?
I, a maenad, half-myself, shall I be a gelded man?
Shall I cherish green Ida's cold slopes dressed in snow?
Shall I spend life under the Phrygian's lofty peaks,
where wood-dwelling stag, and tree-roving boar now live?
Just now feeling pain I've inflicted, now I wish else..."
And there the sound quick left from the ruby lips
bearing its weird words to the ears of the gods,
Thence Cybele freeing her cats from their chains
goading the cruel foe of flock she commanded:
"Leave-- Fly, beast, to make him know my rage,
to drive back his step to my grove with your fury--
he who too freely seeks to flee my own commands.
Go beat your back with tail, bear your own lashes!
Make all this land resound with your pained roar;
Toss, my beast, your golden mane on muscled neck!"
So, in threat, spoke Cybebe and loosed bonds from hand.
The very beast drives himself to craze, raging in spirit...
He stalks, he roars, and breaks twigs 'neath errant foot.
Yet, when come to watery stretches of glistening shore
with soft [m. or f.] Attis sighted near the marbled plain of sea--
he attacks. Then mad he [or "she"] flees to those wild groves;
There ever as slave she stays for the span of life.
Great goddess, god Cybebe, god Lady of Dindym,
May your rage ever be far my home, Mistress,
Drive others to fury; Drive others to madness.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
April 27, Jerome's Life of Paul and Severus' Life of St. Martin of Tours
Jerome's Life of Paul
Jerome (his full Greek name is "Eusebius Hieronymus") c. 347-420 AD was one of the most famous early church fathers. He was from Illyria (Northwestern Greece) and lived under the late Roman Empire. He was well educated in Latin and Greek literature and also studied Hebrew and other semitic languages extensively and studied in the East to complete his masterful translation of the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate).
His _Life of Paul_ was written in the year 374 or 375 during his stay in the desert of Syria, as is seen from ch. 6, and was dedicated to Paulus of Concordia as stated in Jerome's Epistle 10.3.
Sulpicius Severus' Life of St. Martin of Tours
c. 363-425 AD, Severus was from Aquitania (southwstern France near Spain) which was part of the Late Roman empire, and he was well educated in Latin literature. He had excellent rhetorical and legal training and was himself a historian who knew Latin historiography well. For example, he alludes to Sallust's history in the Life of Martin.
These are examples of what we now call hagiography ("sacred-writing") which seems to be a play on biography, since hagiography is writing about lives of holy men and women.
See here for more on the genre:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagiography
It is interesting to note that our basic idea of what a legend is comes from medieval collections of stories about saints--these collections were called "legenda" which means "things to be read" because they were read out loud on the saints' days.
As always, consider how to situate these works in the context of other genres and texts that we have encountered.
Why were these texts written? How might they have been received?
What themes and narrative strategies do you see here that we have seen before?
Can you think of any modern day parallels for this kind of narrative?
Jerome (his full Greek name is "Eusebius Hieronymus") c. 347-420 AD was one of the most famous early church fathers. He was from Illyria (Northwestern Greece) and lived under the late Roman Empire. He was well educated in Latin and Greek literature and also studied Hebrew and other semitic languages extensively and studied in the East to complete his masterful translation of the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate).
His _Life of Paul_ was written in the year 374 or 375 during his stay in the desert of Syria, as is seen from ch. 6, and was dedicated to Paulus of Concordia as stated in Jerome's Epistle 10.3.
Sulpicius Severus' Life of St. Martin of Tours
c. 363-425 AD, Severus was from Aquitania (southwstern France near Spain) which was part of the Late Roman empire, and he was well educated in Latin literature. He had excellent rhetorical and legal training and was himself a historian who knew Latin historiography well. For example, he alludes to Sallust's history in the Life of Martin.
These are examples of what we now call hagiography ("sacred-writing") which seems to be a play on biography, since hagiography is writing about lives of holy men and women.
See here for more on the genre:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagiography
It is interesting to note that our basic idea of what a legend is comes from medieval collections of stories about saints--these collections were called "legenda" which means "things to be read" because they were read out loud on the saints' days.
As always, consider how to situate these works in the context of other genres and texts that we have encountered.
Why were these texts written? How might they have been received?
What themes and narrative strategies do you see here that we have seen before?
Can you think of any modern day parallels for this kind of narrative?
April 24, Friday, Pete's Day
Scientology reading, I think, as a comparison with some of the religious fiction we have read.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, Acts of Thomas
Acts of Thomas (Don't read section 4 and 7 or the lengthy "Hymn of the Soul")
http://www.gnosis.org/library/actthom.htm
Wikipedia has some useful background on this work: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acts_of_Thomas
Original language was Syriac or perhaps Greek for some parts
Culturally from the Near Eastern or Mesopotamian area
4th cent. AD or earlier
Author: supposedly Leucius Charinus but this is probably a fictional person derived from a character in the Gospel of Nicodemus.
Consider the question of genre again. These fictive Christian texts are usually called Acts (Latin "Acta") or Gospels (Latin and Greek "Euangelia"), but scholars sometimes refer to them by the modern title "romances". How does that title fit? Do they resemble the ancient romances that we have read? if so, how?
What themes, story patterns, and narrative styles or strategies do you see here that you have seen before?
Does this work seem more or less believable than the Gospel of Nicodemus? Why?
Can you think of any modern retellings of the story of Christ or any apostles or saints? How do they compare with The Gospel of Nicodemus and the Acts of Thomas?
http://www.gnosis.org/library/actthom.htm
Wikipedia has some useful background on this work: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acts_of_Thomas
Original language was Syriac or perhaps Greek for some parts
Culturally from the Near Eastern or Mesopotamian area
4th cent. AD or earlier
Author: supposedly Leucius Charinus but this is probably a fictional person derived from a character in the Gospel of Nicodemus.
Consider the question of genre again. These fictive Christian texts are usually called Acts (Latin "Acta") or Gospels (Latin and Greek "Euangelia"), but scholars sometimes refer to them by the modern title "romances". How does that title fit? Do they resemble the ancient romances that we have read? if so, how?
What themes, story patterns, and narrative styles or strategies do you see here that you have seen before?
Does this work seem more or less believable than the Gospel of Nicodemus? Why?
Can you think of any modern retellings of the story of Christ or any apostles or saints? How do they compare with The Gospel of Nicodemus and the Acts of Thomas?
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