[ 3 / biz / cgl / ck / diy / fa / ic / jp / lit / sci / vr / vt ] [ index / top / reports ] [ become a patron ] [ status ]
2023-11: Warosu is now out of extended maintenance.

/lit/ - Literature


View post   

File: 65 KB, 1280x1280, Awesome%20Face.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
2672530 No.2672530 [Reply] [Original]

Hey /lit/,

I was wondering if you guys would be able to assist me with translating the first stanza from The Waste Land - A Game Of Chess?

The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion;
In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid— troubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.
And other withered stumps of time
Were told upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the stair.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.

>> No.2672550

Translating it to what?

How fucking dense are you?

>> No.2672581

A bird sits on a seat
that's on a floor,
she gets smashed on vodka
starts thinking about two of her ex-lovers,
she's completely off her head,
her lamp is bright and her bling is bright,
her clothes stink of cheap deodorant,
her heads spinning she's dizzy as fuck,
she pulls out her bong
and gets blazed (420),
she checks her Jason Statham poster
and it's a right laugh.
Then she remembers her BF called her a whore,
when all of a sudden from the stairs:
she hears her BF !!!
"Right then, am 'avin you", she thinks,
Stoned out of her mind,
she's still as a stone,
chucklin' to her mad self
She Waits to Pounce.
HEHEHEHE

>> No.2672670

>>2672581

Fuck yeah.