Robin wrote >Takes off from Ballade of the Men of Olden Times,
which frankly in the original French is so utter crap that I felt
quite justified in ripping it apart and rewriting it.< Can't agree ~ I
especially like "Semblablement, le roy Scotiste / Qui demy face ot, ce dit
on, / Vermeille comme une amatiste / Depuis le front jusqu'au menton?" Beat
that, Glasgow Ripper!
A propos your question to Trevor, who doesn't seem to be around: apart from
the 3 and a bit (the title) ballades I mentioned in my former mail, "Der
Song vom nein und ja" corresponds to "Les regrets de la belle Heaulmiere"
and her saying No to many a man but giving her all to the trickster who
wasn't nice & wanted her money, but it's verbally not at all close, though
it's possible that Ammer's version makes it closer ~ and Brecht leaves out
all the juicy/repulsive physical description later on (did Ammer too for
reasons of propriety?); "Salomon Song" with its refrain "Beneidenswert, wer
frei davon" (Enviable he who is free of it =wisdom) corresponds to "Double
ballade sur le mesme propos" with its refrain "Bien est eureux qui riens n'y
a!" (Happy he who has nothing to do with it!) & its reference to Solomon in
the first verse, though of course Villon is talking of "folles amours" not
wisdom. I guess that Ammer's translation of "Bien est eureux etc" was the
same as Brecht's refrain, another reason for suing him.
Quote Jobby #6
Remembering Bertolt B.
Bleating laughter. Unrhythmical, irregular jerks of his round head: tension
before a permanent start. Excess pressure in the grey garb; the only valve:
the cigar. Amused eyes, strong language: shit being the weakest. Two worn
leather shoes going to and fro with him. Fervently believing nothing.
Playfully instancing. Generously tight-fisted. Continuance was only granted
to change itself by this last saint of doubt, ascetic sybarite and preacher
of the science of art and the art of knowing. Sometimes: in a tiny armchair
capable of rocking, close to his earth in it, down there on a wooden floor:
the others, us, on raised seating. And looked up to him. And he was no
longer there. (Günter Kunert 1964)
----- Original Message -----
From: "Robin Hamilton" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, October 23, 2003 2:38 PM
Subject: Re: 1 s(n)ap - shot & gawn to blazes
> Martin:
>
> > Robin wrote >chasing the ghost of dry knockers< ~ wonderful Robin, this
is
> a
> > magnificent phrase & should enter the language forthwith & posthaste.
>
> Yeah, yeah, sweeten me up -- still doesn't make up for the life I lost
> getting finger-cuts from obscure editions of Patridge trying to track a
> non-existent locution.
>
> > I like very much your "Heroes" Villon paraphrase or homage
>
> I'm not sure which it is -- the neutral term is "englishing". Takes off
> from Ballade of the Men of Olden Times, which frankly in the original
French
> is so utter crap that I felt quite justified in ripping it apart and
> rewriting it.
>
> Like a lot of my Villon "translations", this came out in a block in
_Envoi_
> a year or so ago. (End of blurb.)
>
> > (which I missed
> > at first as it was hidden at the end of a long mail)
>
> My second name is oblique ...
>
> > so am looking forward
> > to "Margot" ~ PULEAZE DON'T tear it up.
>
> Oh don't WORRY sonny jim, this is going to be rammed down your throat.
The
> rest of the list may be spared it, but you, my son ...
>
> <evil chuckle>
>
> Aelfic the Bicycle Cruisader.
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