Stanzaic Chance Poem: Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita
Lolita of life I tangle Aeolian.
Observation redolent,
The hedge entered.
Cousin of neglected family – extremely – some she, in orange, nobody shut.
Optical face,
Annabel,
Wanted half-hidden in the toward;
We experienced during our wanderings encouragement. Died.
Miserable and life excessive.
-
Like observation ladies intense take, and
Over, reader,
The hers enable
Come of nymphet: faunlet enchanted, strong, survived, in open number. Sensations
Of female
Anatomist:
While handmaids I tell eight,
Winking into dust of weeks ever dreadful,
Monique almost love enraged.
Polyglossia: Sound Translation and Reformation of Virgil’s Eclogues, I:
Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi
silvestrem tenui Musam meditaris avena;
nos patriae finis et dulcia linquimus arva.
nos patriam fugimus; tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra
formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.
Meliboee, deus nobis haec otia fecit.
namque erit ille mihi semper deus, illius
saepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus.
ille meas errare boves, ut cernis, et ipsum
ludere quae vellem calamo permisit agresti.
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Tighter, two by two they recouped and supped in effigy’s
Silver stream. Ten of us must have made it, surveying here;
Us but three finished in dull cheer. Liquids must halve
Us, but them, fug i’ mouth. Two, tighter, lent us a number
For most them rest on our doses. Am I really this vast?
.
My liberty, day’s no peace, aches out here. Face it.
‘Nah m’okay,’ I writ: I’ll maybe seem by day,
‘Say pay a tenner an’ I’ll risk a bother-bus,’ imbued Agnes.
Illy my Sarah bothers, out Sir Nice and tips ‘em.
Louder aqua vellum, claim or permit to rest?
________________________________________
Tighter, two by two they recouped and dined.
‘Ten of us have made it,’ the old man cried.
Stools stood empty, plenty room to move,
Yet he gathered in sharing out the loaves.
Each to each he bowed down to his repast
As if to ward off that sole sense of loss.
Each to each was filled up with rosy glass
And embalming their bodies forgot the last.
.
My liberty enjoys no peace. It aches,
Instead, to have no excuse not to take.
You pays your money and you makes your choice;
Louder, the registers chime, the counters voice:
Put your money where your mouth is.
The stanzaic chance poem I first attempted with Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil, and it went terribly. I found the language too plain, and the title not substantial enough to make anything of it. The language of Nabokov, however, is much more varied and rich. Add to this the strong emotional (and contentious) element of a book like Lolita, and the result is a fairly striking piece. Perhaps I am biased having read the book? I'd like to know how it reads to those who haven't.
ReplyDeleteThe polyglossia poem was difficult. I tried to keep the original sound, but allowed words to run into each other and finally altered the punctuation. In fact, in both experiments I afterwards imposed my own punctuation (effecting both the rhythm and meaning) and I suppose it is this, in addition to the initial selection, which makes it a creative, not just automatic act. I already (below) attempted a polyglossia from a language I knew (Italian, not latin), and I personally found this more effective as I could use both the sounds and the original meaning to create a new, dynamic counter to it. However, like Peter Green, I also wrote a conventional version based on my sound-translation and this seems more successful.
I like the way you've taken it a step further with altering it to make sense, perhaps the best way of making this experiment worthwhile- simultaneously keeping the base from which you worked but also weaving in small-ish alterations.
ReplyDeleteI agree that the use of Nabokov's wonderful prose rhythms produces a rich result in your poem. There's obviously more that you can get out of this master writer. idea for an assignment? And yes, polyglossia is difficult but your sound translation is really good. What about Nabokov in Italian next?
ReplyDelete