Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
Et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.
Fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
Cum ventitabas quo puella ducebat
Amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla.
Ibi illa multa tum iocosa fiebant,
Quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat.
Fulsere vere candidi tibi soles.
Nunc iam illa non volt: tu quoque inpotens noli,
Nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser uiue,
Sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
Vale, puella. Iam Catullus obdurat,
Nec te requiret nec rogabit inuitam.
At tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
Scelesta, uae te, quae tibi manet vita!
Quis nunc te adibit? Cui videberis bella?
Quem nunc amabis? Cuius esse diceris?
Quem basiabis? Cui labella mordebis?
At tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.
[Carmina Valerii Catulli, VIII]
No, I haven’t fallen so low as our friend Caius Valerius (Both pages are quite short, someone should make some changes), but I still must remember not to lose time in trivial matters and do eventually my job.
As of today the French edition is called bloc-notes or better journal d’e toile, because of major causes.
I think you all agree that this (and also my blog) are becoming grotesque, even my valuable school has adopted such stupid names as Normal` Pôt (the accent is reversed), Normal` Carte, etc. to make us as intelligent as the normal american after a lobotomy (sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I wanted say Psychosurgery, because it’s more politically correct).
My today’s fortune cookie says:
Tell me why the stars do shine,
Tell me why the ivy twines,
Tell me why the sky's so blue,
And I will tell you just why I love you.
Nuclear fusion makes stars to shine,
Phototropism makes ivy twine,
Rayleigh scattering makes sky so blue,
Sexual hormones are why I love you.
Some time ago I wished the second part of it didn’t exist, I thought human beings were metaphysical entities, but I was wrong. As far as I can tell we love the sun, because it gives as energy and we are selected to collect it. We like company, because it is strategically better in the case of an aggression and last, but not least important, we love people of opposite sex because our hormones program us to transmit the species and the sexually transmitted disease we call life.
So please leave all your romantic attitudes and thoughts about a greater nature of human beings. They are just wrong. We are here to be born, reproduce and die. All other activities are only utilities to accomplish these aims.
Je ne sais pas si ça mérite, mais voilà une poésie d’autres temps, plus heureux :
To the pretty girl with curly black hair
A great sadness pervades my heart,
The sun falls down and comes the night,
Throwing darkness on this world.
But brighter than the stars in sky
Shines the light of your beautiful eyes,
Which stands your figure out of the blue.
The breeze shakes your curly hair,
Your skirt waves striken by wind.
A poet could not be but gay
In such a jocund company.
Désolé pour les deux dernières strophes, je l’ai écrit dans la nuit profonde et même dans le paradis naturel qui me circondait j’étais pressé de terminer. Des moments d’inspiration comme celui qui a engendré ces courts vers arrivent très rarement dans la vie, je ne peux plus terminer de façon plus propre. Je ne suis plus si jeune et ce qui je éprouvais au temps m’est impossible à réproduire. Le moment plus heureux et douloureux de ma vie est déjà passé et je reste dans cette stupide mélange de ennui et volonté. Pour ne pas vous gêner le goût avec une autre poésie à moi et vous expliquer l’oxymore qui je viens d’écrire rappelez vous l’Odi et amo dont j’ai déjà parlé le 9 juillet.
