This is a translation of Robert Frost's The Mending Wall into classical Latin. If you want an interlinear version, I will construct one for you so you can see how the two languages interact. It would also refresh the memory of any of you who have ever ta


Murum Sarciendum

Quispiam quod non amat murum est

quod concretum frigore turgidum

subterraneum sub eum praemissit

et saxos summos in sole effundit

et lacunas creat ut etiam duos a latere possunt transire.

Opus venatorium alia rerum est:

Ego post eos veni refecique

ubi non unum saxum in saxo effecerunt,

sed cuniculum egredi latebrae permittant

ut canibus gannitis placeant. Lacunae quibus ego attineo

nemo vidi eas neque audiri eas faci.

Sed vere in tempore sarciendo eos ibi invenimus.

Ego vicino praeter collem ut cognosceret permitto;

et in die cum ut perambulemus in agmine conveniamus

et murum inter nos semel iterum constituamus.

Murum inter nos dum vadimus.retinemus.

Cuiusque saxi cuiusque qui ceciderunt.

Et aliquot panes sunt et aliquot tam fere bolae sunt

ut necesse est carmine nos uti ut eos librare efficere:

"Manete in quo loco estis quoad dorsi nostri aversi sunt."

Digitos nostros incomptos eis tractandis conterimus.

O, modo alius huiusmodi ludus foris

unus in latere. Significat exiguum plus:

Ibi ubi est murum non requiremus:

Is pineus omnes est et pomarium malum sum.

Arbores malorum meae numquam transferant

ut conos sub arboribus coniferibus edant, ei narro.

Is solum dicet: "Saepta bona vicinos bonos faciunt."

Ver maleficium in me est, et ego miror

Si notionem in capitem imponarem:

"Cur faciunt vicinos bonos?" Id non est

ubi vaccae sunt?

Sed in hoc loco vaccae non sunt.

Ante aedificavi murum, ut cognoscerem

quod muniebam intrinsecus

aut extrinsecus muniebam rogarem

et cuius ibi aptus eram ut offenderem.

Quispiam est quod murum non amat,

quod desiderat id convelli. Ego ei ALBI dicerem,

sed non Albi consimiliter est, et ego malo

ut eidem id diceret. Ego video eum in hoc loco

saxum captum afferendum firme apice

aliquo manu velut saevus vetus ex aevo calcis armatus.

Is in atre velut movet mihi videtur

non silvae solum et umbra arborium.

Non adversum dicendum patris eius agebit

et tibi placet cognovisse eius tam bene

ut is iterum dicat,

"Saepta bona vicinos bonos faciunt."


[The Mending Wall of Robert Frost, A translation
into classical Latin by L J Lynn. The original text follows:]

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head: 'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."






Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 3028 times
Written on 2007-03-07 at 01:36

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kid
Nice innovation i like it. This is really good
2007-03-07