|Posted on Thu Apr 02, 2009 02:51:26|| |
|This poem is, of course, outrageously vulgar. But, it is also deeply poignant, and quite beautiful. This translation is awkward and difficult to understand. Below is my effort at a translation. Comments are welcome. |
Whorehouse tavern, and crowd of regulars,
nine doors down from the twin godsâ€™ temple there!
Do you think youâ€™re the only ones with cocks?
the only ones allowed to $#$% young girls?
and all the rest of us are goats? Because
one, or two hundred, of you sit in line,
$#$%-ups! you think I wouldnâ€™t ram my dick
down all two hundred throats? Think again. And,
paint graffiti dicks on your tavern walls?
Because my girl, whoâ€™s fled far from my arms,
whom I loved as Iâ€™ll never love again,
for whom so many fights were fought and won,
lives there. The rich and mighty screw her now,
andâ€”itâ€™s so badâ€”punks and alley boys too.
Worst of all, Egnatius, long-haired fop,
you, the son of that rabbit country, Spain,
you, made human by that thick, black beard, with
teeth scrubbed with your own Spanish piss.
|Anthony A. Lee|