How Do I Add Cheats To My Itouch Pokemon

Congress on inbreeding and harassment at the University

This post has been removed from this blog, but can be read here .

Ohio License, Holigram

be like coming home

could have also titled this post "L'enfer c'est nous "(Hell's us). Hell does not exist, at least as conceived by the Catholic dogma: the place of punishment where the souls of sinners are condemned to death, to eternal torment and suffering. In another post talk, maybe (or maybe not), the history of the concept of Hell in the West, because it is a curious invention of some parents of the Catholic Church, with counterfeiting and shameless manipulation of the biblical texts.

But now I want to dwell on a philosophical and literary topics: the assumption that there is Hell, yes, but not underground or anywhere after the death of men but here (on earth) and now (while living). We are the ones that we forge our own Hell ( L'enfer, c'est nous ), encouraging attitudes, thoughts and feelings that make us suffer, and also built the Hell for others, when we make them puñeta (and thus I said Jean Paul Sartre : L'enfer, c'est les autres ). In the novel

The Impatient Alchemist (2000), Lorenzo Silva of , researchers are questioning an individual, Clench Ochaita, suspected of murder. Ochaita actually innocent of the murder he is charged, and is also suffering a disease in its terminal stage (as in the novel dies shortly after this dialog):

"Look, Sergeant Ochaita spoke again, still face. I do not know how much I have left. I do not know if they will be fifteen days, or ten, or two. I have not had a bad life been good, I come with mine many times and I was able to see that many never get whims. But now it blows me [...] Moreover, if you had killed someone, now give me the pleasure to confess. Not that I do not believe in hell. Go do believe: I lived there. So I do not care what I expected. After all, this is like coming home .

What is the pedigree of this design classic ? Lucretius in Rome sought to disseminate Epicurean philosophy, under the guise of didactic poetry: he wrote a beautiful poem De rerum natura , on which we have mentioned more than once in this blog . One of the tenets of Epicurean philosophy is that Hell does not exist, among other reasons, because the souls of men did not survive the death of people. In a long passage in Book III (lines 978-1023), Lucretius argues that conventional punishment of Hell (those Tántalo, Ticio, las Dánaides) en realidad son metáforas de los sufrimientos que experimentamos en vida, fruto de nuestros vicios morales. He aquí algunos versos (978-983, 992-997):

Atque ea ni mirum quae cumque Acherunte profundo
prodita sunt esse, in vita sunt omnia nobis.
nec miser inpendens magnum timet aëre saxum
Tantalus, ut famast, cassa formidine torpens;
sed magis in vita divom metus urget inanis
mortalis casumque timent quem cuique ferat fors. [...]

sed Tityos nobis hic est, in amore iacentem
quem volucres lacerant atque exest anxius angor
aut alia quavis scindunt cuppedine curae.
Sisyphus in vita quoque nobis ante oculos est, qui petere a populo
saevasque fasces et semper Secures
imbibit tristisque recedit Victus.

And few doubt that the deep Acheron
punishment conveys the legend, all are in life. Tantalus
There is unfortunate that the huge rock theme
suspended in the air, as told, nothing paralyzed by terror;
but in life, the vain fear overwhelms
gods to mortals, and fear the perils to which each, will send you the chance.

Actually, for us Tityus is he who, overcome by love,
lacerate the vultures and recommend an anxious distress,
or we tear the troubles of any other passion. Sisyphus
there too, but in life and before our eyes:
is get the people who crave the beams and superb axes,
always defeated and withdrawn and sulky. Lope de Vega

held on the same topic in Sonnet 54 of his book human Rhymes (1609). Clearly following Lucretius, Lope compares legendary convicted of Hell (Danaides, Tantalus, Ixion, Sisyphus, Prometheus) with the intimate suffering caused by the jealousy of love

That forty-nine forever seeking to drain the lake
Averno;
Tantalus water and young tree
never try glass or apples;

suffered during the axle of your wheel moves
Ixion, for eternal time;
Sisyphus, crying in hell,
the hard edge of the mountain bears;

to pay the crazy warning
Prometheus being a thief of divine calling,
in the Caucasus, their arms linked;

terrible penalties are, but suddenly
see another lover in the arms of his mistress,
if they are older, who saw the tell.

Quevedo also believes that it is suffering in life, Hell of love in his heart: "My heart is a realm of terror."

EXAGGERATION Persevere in
YOUR LOVE AND AFFECTION IN EXCESS OF HIS SUFFERING

In the cloisters of the soul lies quiet
wound, but hungry
consume life in my veins feeds
widespread calls for the marrow. Bebe

hydropic my life burning, ash
already emaciated and loving, beautiful fire
body, holds its light
in smoke and darkness.

flee people, and am horrified by the day;
extend in long black voices crying, silent sea
that my burning pain sends.

A voice cries I gave the song,
l'confusion floods my soul: my heart is
reign of terror.

I have even a hypothesis about where particular read Lope de Vega and Quevedo the text of Lucretius: surely in one of the anthologies or miscellanies of Latin texts that were so successful during the sixteenth century, in which the extracts were encompassed under headings that represent topics and motives. The topics, in turn, were organized in alphabetical order. A likely candidate would be the book Illustrium poetarum flowers, Mirándula Octavian. He met many issues. A jewel of my library is a copy of this book, in 1553, whose cover is this:




And the text of Lucretius (one serving) is reproduced on page 347, under the topic "From Inferno" and heading "An Inferni poena sit aliquo & quod non sit, secundum quorundam insulsam opinionem" (If there is any punishment in Hell, and what is not, as the foolish opinion of some):




So, you know there is nothing to fear: If we accept the view of Lucretius, Hell does not exist, we create it ourselves, in life. And if Hell existed, there is no doubt that when we get there ... be like coming home . Well, it takes as much as possible ...

Technorati tags: Epicureanism , literary topoi, hell, Lucretius, Lope de Vega , Quevedo, Lorenzo Silva , Classical Tradition

How Give Yourself Enema No Equipment

Contigo pan y cebolla (o. .. can live love and fresh water?)

The term "you, bread and onions" is much more than a trite proverb. It reflects a reality of human nature and resume, on the other hand, the contents of a literary topic. When the infatuation

invades a subject (a love intense, recent), the lover's body triggers a neurophysiological response, including the release in the brain of a natural drug, produced by the body: the phenylethylamine. This substance has the pharmacological properties of amphetamine cause "symptoms of love" such as insomnia and appetite, and suppresses the feeling of fatigue. The lover, doped by this drug of love, feeling brave and immune to the dangers. I appeal now to the experience and memories of my readers, have not we experienced when we are in love and accompany the bride to the house at night, the feeling of being immune to street risks: for example, being assaulted by thugs?

But what was, phenylethylamine induce the subject to feel also resistant to fatigue, thirst and hunger. That is why the "feel" literally if you're in the company of the beloved, do not need material resources to sustain themselves (food, drink). Hence the saying Castilian: Contigo pan y cebolla . The French expressed the same conviction more poetically: "vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche (live on love and fresh water) *.

That feeling, that conviction is also a literary topic with classical roots. As I said in another post, about the apathy that causes love, in this case also the former are limited to development as a topical literary description of a neurophysiological state. Thus, the Latin elegiac poets repeatedly proclaim that they prefer the love of riches . More concretamente, a veces especifican que, con tal de estar con la mujer amada, no les importa vivir en la penuria de medios materiales (pseudo-Tibulo 3.3.23-24, 29-32):

Sit mihi paupertas tecum iucunda, Neaera,
At sine te regum munera nulla volo. [...]

Nec me regna iuvant nec Lydius aurifer amnis
Nec quas terrarum sustinet orbis opes.
Haec alii cupiant, liceat mihi paupere cultu
Securo cara coniuge posse frui.

¡Viva yo contigo, Neera, en feliz pobreza,
pero sin ti no quiero ni los regalos de los reyes! [...]

No me complacen los reinos, ni el río lidio, rico en oro,
ni cuantas riquezas contiene el orbe terráqueo.
Let others crave it, I wish I may, with poor support,
difrutar without grief of my beloved wife.

modern times, the French poet Jacques Prévert (who I quoted another poem here) produces a fantasy or erotic dream , with a dreamlike atmosphere and surreal feel able to live in absolute poverty, naked and desert, with his love, and subsisted only in this love ... and fresh water (I worry about where you plan to find fresh water in the desert, unless cerquita imagine an oasis, but the dreams, of course, are free and can afford to be inconsistent):

What did you dream? Dressed

then coated
what did you dream
naked

I let my mink in the cloakroom
and we went into the desert
We lived with love and fresh water
we loved in our misery
we ate our dirty linen in
famine and the slick black sand
dishes tinkled sun
We lived with love and fresh water
I bare your property.

¿Con qué
SONABA?

Vestida y vuelta has to invest, ¿con qué
SONABA
you undressed?

I left my
mink in the closet and we left the desert
lived with love and fresh water
loved us in our distress
we ate our clothes dirty, hungry and on the tablecloth
black sand
rattled the Sun dishes
lived with love and fresh water
I was your naked

property

And songwriter Joaquín Sabina takes the expression "bread and onions" to characterize a relationship, in his song "Eva taking the sun ", belonging to the disk The man in the gray suit (1988). The song can be heard here (5 MB MP3 file), and the first part of the letter says:

all began when the serpent
brought me an apple and said, "test"
I called Adam, surely
your name is Eve.

squatters lived in an apartment abandoned
Moratalaz,
if you have not been there have not seen
the Earthly Paradise.

We took a mattress in a trash
two chairs and a table with three legs, while I smudged sheet

you fry the potatoes.


Ketama hemp seeds planted and we grew up with the pot
window with a tree branch
science of good and evil.

Eva
liked being dark and he lay down every afternoon in the sun,
nobody ever saw a mermaid
so naked on a balcony.

Soon every window there was a
husband when they sat on the show my girl, but the TV would
deferred
Real Madrid Benfica.

One day the snake in a trance
Mezzanine his consort surprised
formed a stir and phoned
zero and ninety two.

And we did not have surnames,
or grape leaves, or an uncle councilman,
or
Cupid God but to no avail protest.

Eva sunbathing
blessed lack of control,
kisses, onion and bread ...
what more do you want Adam?

* Thanks to Monica M. Martinez for having reminded the French expression, for having made known poem by J. Prévert and, ultimately, for suggesting the topic of this post .

Technorati tags: Contigo pan y cebolla , Tibullus , love poetry, Jacques Prévert , Joaquín Sabina , literary topoi, Classical Tradition

French Encouraging Phrases

not let me down (Do not let me down)

From our birth, and throughout our lives, people are reason for hope and expectation for those around us. We are a continuing promise. When we are born, our parents are hopeful that we will be obedient and loving children, students applied, exemplary professionals and citizens, and finally, a staff for their old age, in short, children who feel proud. Our brothers are confident that we will be playmates, accessories, fraternal strongholds. As we grow, our friends expect us loyalty, mutual help and friendship. Our colleagues are confident that our partnership can have diligently. Our partner expects love, support mutual loyalty, understanding. Our children wait eagerly for us to gather honey, balanced education, selfless dedication, protection. And so in all areas of human relations.

However, as we grow and live, we will disappoint those hopes, disappointed expectations and unfulfilled promises we made implicitly by the mere existence. This disappointment brought forth as we pass has a positive and a negative side, like most things in life. The negative side is the discomfort we feel for the failure to live up to what they expected and others expect of us. The upside is that, after all, since disappoint is inherent to the process of living, if disappointed is because we are living, because we are still alive.

I at least I've reached middle age (which could be described as green mature or mature youth) at this point in my life I've had time and opportunity to be disappointed because my parents (to them the first), my brothers, my friends, my old girlfriends, my wife (especially her), my children (especially them), my colleagues and my students, and now as author of this Blog , guess my readers also , word, act or omission.

Consider a particular case: disappointment mutually inflicted a couple members. When they meet, everything is expectation of happiness. But the passage of time and coexistence (the co-existence : life-in-common, the act-of-living-together) make to surface defects of character and attitude that were previously kept hidden or concealed . Then erode expectations and hopes were encouraged in the beginning. And each of the partners begins to disappoint the other (or seen the opposite: everyone starts to feel disappointed by the other party.) If the disappointment is critical, then there are two options: either the conformity and adaptation, or rupture. In the background, always a break is because we that our partner has disappointed the hopes we had landed.

curious but understandably human beings are much more likely to acknowledge the disappointment caused by the self-other than to recognize the disappointment he caused in others. In the case of rupture of a couple, each of the members tend to remember much disappointment that the disappointment suffered. But here adduce literary examples of both. The Latin poet Catullus decides to end his relationship with his beloved Lesbia (poem 76). This is a poem that we include in the genre of renuntiatio amoris (renunciation of love, breakup). However, Catulo considera que su actitud ha sido impecable hacia Lesbia en todos los sentidos, y que ha sido ella la que, por deslealtad, ha defraudado las expectativas que él tenía sobre ella:

Si qua recordanti benefacta priora voluptas
est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium
nec sanctam violasse fidem, nec foedere nullo
divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines:
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle,
ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi.
nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt
aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt:
omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti.
quare cur te iam amplius excrucies?
quin tu animo offirmas atque istinc teque reducis,
et dis invitis desinis esse miser?
difficilest longum subito deponere amorem,
difficilest, verum hoc, qua lubet, efficias:
una salus haec est, hoc est tibi pervincendum,
hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote. -
o di, si vestrumst misereri, aut si quibus umquam
extremo, iam ipsa in morte, tulistis opem,
me miserum aspicite et, si vitam puriter egi,
eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi!
hei mihi, subrepens imos ut torpor in artus
expulit ex omni pectore laetitias.
non iam illud quaero, contra me ut diligat illa,
aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit:
ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum.
o di, reddite mi hoc Pietat pro mea!

If a man gets any pleasure to remember his good
shares when recalls that has been loyal,
has not violated the sacred loyalty or abused in any agreement
the sanctity of the gods to defraud people,
many pleasures await you, Catullus, for a long life,
a result of this love that has not reciprocated.
As far as men can do or say good
all that is said and done for you.
all of which fell on deaf ears, a heart committed unfair:
therefore why are you going to haunt you again, why not get paid
forces and come back on you,
and stop being miserable, against the will of the gods?
arduous task is to depose of a sudden a long love
hard, but do it at all costs:
that is the only salvation, it must overcome,
that you do, whether it is possible or not.
Oh, gods, if you own compassion, if ever some
offer help and in the same death,
contempladme to me, unhappy, and if I lived honestly,
arrancadme this disease and the destruction,
that infiltrate as a paralysis in my marrow,
booted me around the chest joie de vivre!
and do not mean this, that my part in love,
or, what is impossible, who wants to be honest.
I want to reset and heal from this painful disease:
oh, gods, devolvedme this in exchange for my loyalty.

In contrast, we document the opposite view (which is much rarer) in a modern poem Felipe Benítez Reyes : here, the lyrical subject argues that when a breakup occurs, one must reflect on the disappointment caused in your family. This disappointment has been the cause of the breakdown or abandonment: WARNING

If you ever suffer, and you will,
by someone who loved you and that leaves you,
not hold grudges or forgive him: distorts their memory
the spiteful
forgiveness and love is just a word that does not conform
never a feeling. Supports
your pain alone, because the merit
adversity even more justified if you were

unfair to your conscience, not betting
only love I gave you
innocent splendor, its untouched worlds.

So when you will suffer-and-
by someone who loved you, always tries to accuse yourself
its
forgotten because you were a coward or maybe you were ungrateful.
and learns that life has a price you can not afford
continuously.
And learn your dignity in defeat, thanking

who loved you fleeting gift of her beauty.

(From the book worlds Openings , 1985)

How To Be A Good Restaurant Dishwasher

Love Spell (o. .. what to do if you can not live without it)

Imagine you are in love with someone. The loved one is not for us, because it would not agree establish a relationship with us, or because it has ended the relationship (and frequent a particular case is when our family left us for a third party). We are suffering the worst disease that could occur in the realm of feelings, unrequited love (love ingratus ).

What can this situation? Maybe we can still try to dissuade the beloved of your intentions and vexatious "dejatorias": write poems or songs, send flowers with obsequious little notes, or other lavish gifts; touch serenades, trying to persuade her, bombarding it with calls, emails and sms, and because ultimately, emotional blackmail, threatening to commit suicide if we do not applicable (we be surprised at how many couples and marriages statistically have been or will have saved a break because one of the other members threatened to kill herself if he left, I know more than one case).

If all our efforts and determination are futile, it should implement some tricks to forget our love, on which Ovid spoke at length in his book Remedia amoris (Remedies against indifference "): we could redirect our energies into other activities, always trying to avoid idleness (which is what Freud called sublimate the sexual drive) or to land and through time (do not say distance is denial?) or think ill of the beloved and refine their flaws, to be encouraging for her hatred and resentment in ourselves.

Other resources that happen to me (but excludes Ovid recommendations) are: woo and seduce another person (you know: a dead king, king position), or get high or drunk to dull the pain. But in the end, if our condition is really extreme and desperate, if it is literally true that "can not live without it" *, the most consistent and worthy is ... yes, consummate suicidal threats, not to be of those who fake a shot and hide the hand is that there is no denying that there is nothing more elegant and romantic than a love suicide. The procedures for self-immolation have classic pedigree are varied (the method of Socrates, who is the hemlock, but worth every poison, a Turkish bath with bleeding, such as Seneca, or a dagger with which practiced a kind of harakiri, as Peto), but one quite appropriate in case of loving motivation would be left to die of starvation (To display a slow agony and colorful, and lead to further dent morale in the loved one, causing it).

However, at least from the standpoint of cultural tradition, suicide is more typical love jumping from a cliff or ravine, and according to legend, Sappho made from a cliff on the Greek island of Lefkada, when he could not endure the scorn of Phaon, and since then, in imitation of her many lovers were desperate (by the way, for those unwilling or unable to afford a trip to the Ionian island, suggest three suitable sites in southern Spain : the viewpoint of Vejer de la Frontera (Cádiz) the block of Ronda (Malaga), or a cliff in the Algarve Portuguese). Indeed, the modernist painter Gustave Moreau (1826-1898) was haunted by the suicide of Sappho, to the point where he painted the episode in several stages (Sappho overlooking the precipice in free fall Sappho, Sappho and folded). Take for example this painting entitled La mort de Sappho :



is also true that before getting to that end, we should try a procedure that many Greeks and Romans considered effective: the magic (although Ovid deter this practice in Remedia amoris). Many Greeks and Romans practiced witchcraft, spells and charms, to win a love dish. We have documentation of this in Greek and Latin (of which no documentation is whether or not they were effective in achieving its objectives).

For example, a certain Felix wants to win the love of such a Veti. Adjures the infernal deities, so that they instill love for him in Veti, registering the spell on a tablet of lead. The Latin text is gaps (and also with spelling and grammar) and the translation that I offer only approximate:

commenda Ope ... hell ut non ... contemnere me, sed quem faciated quodcumque Desidero peperites Optatus Vetti, adiubantibus enim vobis ut amoris mei causa non dormiat, non cebum non escam accipere possit. [...] obligo Vettie [quam] peperit Optata sensum sapientiam et intellectum et voluntantem, ut amet me Felicem quem peperit Fructa ex ha die ex hac ora, ut obliviscatur patris et matris et propinquorum suorum et amicorum omnium et aliorum virorum amoris mei autem Felicem quem peperit Fructa, Vettia quem peperit Optata solum me in mente habeat... dormiens vigilans uratur frigat... ardeat Vettia quam peperit Optata... amoris et desideri mei.

Con este rito os conjuro, dioses infernales, a que no consintáis que me desdeñe, sino que haga lo que yo ansío Vetia, a la que parió Optata; a que, gracias efectivamente a vuestra ayuda, no duerma por causa de mi amor, can not ingest food or food. Alienate, Veti, which bore elective subject, the sense, prudence, mind and will, to love me, Felix, who gave birth Fructo, from this day and from this hour to forget his father and mother and their relatives and friends and the other men, for love of me, Felix, who bore Fructo. That Veti, who bore Optatus, just me in your mind, sleeping or awake, and shall burn, freeze, burn Veti, which bore Optatus, love and desire for me.

This is a real magic, but have also been preserved literary versions of these spells of love (carmina amoris). For ejemplo, el Idilio II de Teócrito, donde Simeta, locamente enamorada de Delfis, pronuncia un elaborado ensalmo para atraer su amor. O la égloga VIII de Virgilio, donde Alfesibeo hace lo propio para recuperar el favor del jovencito Dafnis. Copio aquí sólo un extracto de este segundo poema (no se pierdan la belleza del símil de la vaca):

ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
Necte tribus nodis ternos, Amarylli, colores;
necte, Amarylli, modo et «Veneris» dic «vincula necto».
ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
Limus ut hic durescit et haec ut cera liquescit
uno eodemque igni, sic nostro Daphnis amore.
sparge molam et fragilis incende bitumine lauros.
Daphnis me malus urit, ego hanc in Daphnide laurum.
ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
Talis amor Daphnim, qualis cum fessa iuvencum
per nemora atque altos quaerendo bucula lucos,
propter aquae rivum, viridi procumbit in ulva,
perdita, nec serae meminit decedere nocti,
talis amor teneat, nec sit mihi cura mederi.
ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
(Virgilio, Églogas 8.72-90)

Traed de la ciudad a casa, traed, ensalmos míos, a Dafnis.
Ata tres hilos de colores distintos con tres nudos, Amarílide;
átalos, Amarílide, and say only: "I'm tying the bonds of Venus." City
Bring home, bring, my spells, Daphnis.
Like this clay hardens and the wax melts
at the hands of one and the same fire, and Dafnis suffer for my love.
Spread flour and crispy bitumen comprises bay leaves
the evil Daphnis burns me, as I hug the bay by Daphnis. City
Bring home, bring, my spells, Daphnis.
That this love it holds to Daphnis as when a dead cow
to seek to steer by groves and forests grown faint
falls along a river, next to the green egg,
lost and can not remember back to the fall night,
that it possesses such a love and I do not worry I take care of it. City
Bring home, bring, my spells, Daphnis.

Finally, I found these spells of love with contemporary life, but as real magic rites (not know), at least as poetic reasons (and that's the reason why I have written this post because the subject is present). Luis Garcia Montero (Granada, 1958) has written a modern version of the motif of love magic in this one (the book separate rooms , 1994):

SONG OF WITCHCRAFT

partner Lord, Lord of the night, let

turn his face who would not look at me.

Let your eyes look me

sustained and blue behind the bar.


ask my name and asking me
slowly approaching snuff.

If you prefer to stay,
make everyone leave this bar
and depopulation

to leave us alone with the song slower.

If you decide to leave,

the moon has its light on our kiss
and that the streets know
also leave us alone.

partner Lord, Lord of the night,
do not
cock crow about buildings,
delaying the day and last


your shadows long enough.

The time it took to decide.

So you know the readers of this blog : If you suffer from lack of love and have lost hope, as a last resort do not lose anything by trying a spell love (worth the Latin text above, Felix, substituting the names of subject and his beloved), and you tell me if it is effective or not. Always preferable to apply the Socratic method or sapphic. I say.

* I borrow the phrase of the blog If you can not live without me ... How come still not you dead? (Thanks, Eva).

Technorati tags: Virgil, Theocritus , love spell, magic , Luis García Montero , Eclogue , suicide, love , Gustave Moreau, Classical Tradition Today

First Response Light Second Line

All drinking

plays a post more frivolous and light (I hope), after the dramatic entry over fear. The ancient Greeks also had what might be called "Songs of drunks" (as our "Wine Assumption selling ..."): ie ditties to be recited in the context of banquets and meetings of drinkers. The following little poem belongs to the collection of Anacreontics . This collection is a compilation of themed banquet later poems, not being of Anacreon, were composed in the style and theme of the Greek lyric poet, and were attached to his name:

Ἡ γῆ μέλαινα πίνει,
πίνει δένδρεα δ 'αὖ γῆν
πίνει θάλασσ' ἀναύρους,
son d sun thάlassan,
son d sun the moon;
me: What mάchesth 'partners,
kaftoi thέlonti pίnein;
( Anacreónticas 21)

La negra tierra bebe,
los árboles beben la tierra,
el mar bebe las fuentes,
y al sol, la luna.
¿Porque lucháis, compañeros, conmigo,
also want to drink?

In Spain, two poets cultivated especially gender anacreontic by free translations or adaptations of Greek poems: Esteban Manuel de Villegas (1589-1699) in the seventeenth century, and Juan Meléndez Valdés in the eighteenth. The first composed a graceful and concise adaptation of the song above:

Monostrofe 20

drink Del Bebe


fertile land and land plants, water
the winds, the suns
water,
moons and suns and stars
clear. Then why

drink vedáis me, comrades?

The Greek also has known little poem numerous imitations in English poetry. For example, it's Charles Cotton (1630-1687), published in 1689 (which is far more verbose than Villegas):

Paraphras'd from Anacreon

The Earth with swallowing drunken showers
Reels a perpetual round, With their healths
And the Trees and Flowers
drink up the Ground Again.

The Sea, full of Liquor spuing,
The ambient Air doth sup, And thirsty
Phoebus at a pull,
Quaffs off the Ocean's cup. When

stagg'ring to a resting place,
His bus'ness Being done,
The Moon, with her pale face platters, and drinks up
Comes the Sun. Since

Elements and Planets Then Drinks
an eternal round,
'Tis sure much more for men
Proper Have Better Liquor found. Why I May Not
Then, pray tell me, Drink and Be
drunk as well as They?

In addition, the following poem of Shelley , is not about drinking, but about love, but uses the same procedure rhetorical and argumentative of Anacreontic Greek:

Love's Philosophy

The Fountains
mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix
for ever With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine In one
Another's Being
mingle-Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp
One Another;
No sister-flower Would Be forgiven If it disdain'd STI
brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss
the sea- What Are All These
kissings worth, If thou kiss
not me?

And, for that matter to trace the rhetoric of these poems, flamenco song "The Night They Blew Up The Moon," Bacilos group, we see the same mode of argument on couple of stanzas:

If men have reached the moon, from Sevilla
if I can talk to someone in New York,
if the medicine cures what was certain death,
tell me why it is not possible our love.

If the beautiful with a kiss the beast became a heartthrob,
if the flowers wilt and later returns to sprout, grandparents
if you want,
and his love is all you have, tell me
Why do not we'll try.

Technorati tags: Anacreon , Shelley , Anacreontea , Charles Cotton , Esteban Manuel de Villegas , poetry, drinking , love, love poetry , Classical Tradition

Redoing Brick Fireplace

Fear makes the world go round (Fear Makes the world go round)

[Update 9/14/2006. For an Inglés translation of this post by Richard Blazek, see here . Thanks, Richard!]

is countless number of things that humans do because of fear. I do not believe, with Freud, that the motivation of the human species is unique: the sex drive. Nor am I convinced that the motivation of man is double, as he held the Archpriest of Hita, subsistence (preservation of the individual) and procreation (preservation of the species): design

As Aristotle thing is true,
the working world for two things: first, by aver
Inspection and maintenance, the other was
by aver juntamiento with fembra plasentera. (Book of Good Love , verse 71)

No, the motivation universal, ubiquitous engine in the world, is the fear .





Breast Baby demanding food with their crying and cooing of the mother, because he is afraid: to starve or be run over or beaten by a larger congener. School children in abuse of the weak because they fear themselves to be victimized by others: they fear because they are afraid. For fear of loneliness or social ostracism made friends with other individuals. That same fear leads us to package it (the unity is strength, "he says) in various associations, clubs, political parties or trade unions (unions : mafia quasi those societies for mutual protection, shielding its members against fear to all outside). We study and develop careers because we fear of "being nobody" in the human jungle and, therefore, not be able, throughout our life, to pursue life-sustaining medical care and protection from hostile elements. When we love, incur major indignity and baseness for fear that the loved us reject or abandon us. Matching people and marries the wrong person for fear of isolation. Procreate children because it scares us to imagine themselves in our old age, or because we wish to neutralize the fear to dissipate the memory of us once we die.

Many attracts power and wealth (as discussed in Lucretius), because such goods apparently placed us in a safe position and exempt from fear. We are intoxicated with drugs or alcohol to evade, because we dread to face reality. We cling to life because we fear death, like Hamlet: For

In That Sleep of Death, dreamer What May Come, When we haue shuffel'd
off this Mortalla Coile,
Must giue vs pawse. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life
For who would beare the Whips and Scornes of time, […]
When he himselfe might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardles beare
To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The vndiscouered Countrey, from whose Borne
No Traueller returnes, Puzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare those illes we haue,
Then flye to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of vs all,

Pues los ensueños que nos puedan acontecer durante el sueño de la muerte,
una vez que nos hayamos desprendido del mortal veil
should make us reconsider. Therein lies the fear that consent
an unhappy life so long.
For who would bear the whips and downs of the time, [...]
when he himself could obtain peace of mind with a simple dagger
? Who would endure suffering these defects,
to groan and sweat under the burden of life,
if not for the fear of something after death,
to that unknown country from whose bounds no traveler returns
, will confuse
and makes us bear those ills we have,
before escaping towards others ignored?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.

And vice versa: the desperate opt for suicide cling to death for fear of life. For fear of being committed major sins and injustices: the scam, steals, kills, denigrates his neighbor, for we fear being victims of such abuse ourselves, and we chose to get ahead. members of the courts that judge in the competitions and rating prevaricate for fear University: prefer candidates promote confidence, that they do not shade or frighten them, while the most able postponed because they are scary. Tyrants fear the longer tyrannize over his subjects feel. When the tyrant Creon banishes Medea from the kingdom of Corinth, he blurts out free cives metu ("free citizens fear" Seneca, Medea 270). And rise of individual psychology to collective states wage war for fear that the enemy take the initiative.

I even believe that, anthropologically, both smiling as depression born of fear. The smile was a grimace the mouth with that apes the dominant weak conveyed the message that posed no threat. That is, the shy smile (who were afraid of timere Latin verb "fear"). Depression, with the passive and timid that it produces in the individual serving to convey the same message of surrender and helplessness in the face of potential aggressors. Ultimately, it is fear that drives mankind to interact with their environment and with other individuals. So I think that bloggers write articles on our blog for fear of being nobody, nobody can count on us in the blogosphere. Fear is always fear.

Javier Marías's novel Your Face Tomorrow . 2. Dance and dream (Madrid: Alfaguara, 2004), describes how criminals are defended in the final trial for their crimes and misdeeds:

defendants

And always respond: "It was necessary, defending my God, my King, my country, my culture, my race, my flag, my legend, my tongue, my class, my space, my honor, my people, my safe, my wallet and my socks. In short, I fear. " (P. 162)

and Lucretius, the apostle in Rome of the Epicurean philosophy, develops at length the issue that is the fear of death, why people make all kinds of sins and crimes during his lifetime ( De rerum natura 3.59-73 ):

Avaritia denique et honorum caeca cupido,
quae homines cogunt wretched end
transcend inter dum et iuris atque scelerum partners
ministers atque dies niti Noctes praestante labore
ad summas emergere opes, haec vulnera vitae
non minimam partem mortis formidine aluntur.
turpis enim ferme contemptus et acris egestas
semota ab dulci vita stabilique videtur
et quasi iam leti portas cunctarier ante;
unde homines dum se falso terrore coacti
effugisse volunt longe longeque remosse,
sanguine civili rem conflant divitiasque
conduplicant avidi, caedem caede accumulantes,
crudeles gaudent in tristi funere fratris
et consanguineum mensas odere timentque.

En fin, la avaricia y el deseo ciego de honores,
que obligan a los desdichados hombres a transgredir los límites de la justicia
y, a veces, como cómplices y colaboradores de crimes,
to strive night and day, with enormous effort,
to achieve maximum wealth, these vices of life
fed largely by the fear of death.
As the shameful contempt and debilitating poverty
seem incompatible with a sweet and safe life
and are as a living and at death's door.
Therefore, men who labor for a terror free
trying to escape and flee far away,
through the blood of their fellow citizens and increasing its equity
, anxious, doubled his wealth, accumulated death upon death.
Cruel, rejoice in the tragic funeral of a brother and hate and fear
banquets relatives.

Thus, it is clear that the greatest virtue is ethical and civic courage. But how few have it.

Technorati tags: dread, fear , Lucretius, sense of life, Hamlet, Shakespeare , Classical Tradition

Chetna And Prithvi Canada

Nothing sweeter than love

De Luis Alberto de Cuenca (Madrid, 1950) and poems quoted here and here in this blog . I read his latest book, Life in flames (Madrid: Visor, 2006).

That includes the following poem:
ALICIA

Forty degrees in the shade.
An empty road on the horizon is lost. A Chevrolet
provided ready for scrapping.
A rock pool where bathing.
A glass of cold beer in a McDonald's.
Two or three truck drivers with whom to converse.
Two or three waitresses at that hesitation.
A Bible salesman to be discussed.
An amazing sunset.
All this in exchange for a rainy afternoon with Alicia
in a shed.

The rhetorical technique used is that we know as priamel : first (vv. 1-9), lists a number of elements supposedly joyful to the subject; then establishes the superiority of love over those other pleasures of life (vv. 10-11).

technique with the same erotic involvement is already in the Greek epigrammatic Asclepiades of Samos, in the third century BC, which was considered the inventor of the Alexandrian erotic epigram ( Anthology 5169):

Ἡδὺ θέρους διψῶντι χιὼν ποτόν, ἡδὺ δὲ ναύταις
ἐκ χειμῶνος ἰδεῖν eiarinon Stέfanon;
idion d, when the krύpsῃ mίa filέontas
greatcoat and ainitai Kύpris In 'amfotέron.

Dulce es para el sediento el agua fresca en el estío,
dulce para los marinos contemplar tras el invierno la primaveral Corona Boreal.
Pero más dulce es that a single blanket covering
two lovers who worship Aphrodite.

is not implausible to suppose that Luis Alberto de Cuenca, fine Hellenistic, was inspired by the little poem of Asclepiades for its own membership.

Indeed, it is highly likely to Jaime Gil de Viedma read and imitate the Asclepiades epigram. We know that Biedermann, although he knew the Greek Anthology read the in French translation in the Classics Garnier. The poem that is reminiscent Gil de Viedma clear the Hellenistic epigram is 'Anniversary Waltz', belonging to Book Travel Companions (Barcelona, \u200b\u200b1959), and launches:

ANNIVERSARY WALTZ

Nothing is as sweet as a
room for two, when we do not want too,
outside the city in a quiet hotel, and couples
doubtful and a child node, if

is not this slight feeling of unreality
.
something like summer in my parents' house, long ago, as travel by train
night.

[...] Interestingly, in "Anniversary Song", the book Morals (1966), quoted the poet himself, again evoking Asclepiades epigram:

Because they are now six years since ,
because there is on earth still
nothing as sweet as a
room for two, if it's yours and mine

I studied more closely the classical tradition present in Gil de Viedma in this article.

I realize, of course, they almost always comment here on the same poets, my classics : Catullus, Horace, Virgil, Statius, Fray Luis de Leon, Quevedo, Gabriel y Galán, Luis Cernuda , Jaime Gil de Viedma ...

want my readers to enjoy the love, poetry and life.

Technorati tags: Asclepiades , Jaime Gil de Viedma , poetry, love , Classical Tradition

What To Write In The Wedding Guest Book

Switch off feriunt

Tomorrow

Can I Use Fuji Film For Polaroid 600

Omnes, last NECAT

Visit nostalgic evening and the Playa del Palmar, near Conil (Cádiz, Spain). Why nostágica: personal memories, which I reserve. Tuesday, August 22, 2006. They are seven-thirty in the afternoon, but there is still time ( time, time, time ) for a dive in crystalline waters, while also seeking the sun plunge into the sea in the distance beyond:



Before contemplate a sundial, and without shadows cast by the gnomon (as a Latin motto says, also applied to sundials : absque sole, usu absque, "no sun, no utility"). A Latin inscription atop the field: OMNES

FERIVNT VLTIMA NECAT




The subject of the two sentences are elided. It should be "hours." Therefore, the inscription in English translation, said:

All (hours) wound, the last kills

time (its course, its use, its transience, its loss) is the factor that gives and also removes all meaning to human life. So the passage of time has traditionally been referred to in literature and poetry from two perspectives: as a negative factor (the passage of time finally ends with us; is the concept that reflects the theme of the watch) and also as a positive factor: we must seize the time, as if this was the last time we might live. This second point about time is all a literary topic that has been labeled naming CARPE DIEM as happy name of Horace (Odes in 1.11.8, then I quote the text.)

I have not been documented Case clock, or similar, in classical Latin literature. It must be a neo-Latin phrase coinage (perhaps medieval or Renaissance). But in Latin poetry are allusions to "breaking / estación / tiempo / día”, en contextos de desarrollo del motivo del carpe diem . Traigo aquí a colación dos pasajes de Horacio, ayudándome del repertorio de citas latinas sobre el tema que nos regala el blog Laudator temporis acti :

1) Horacio, Odas 1.11:

Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati.
seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam ,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques, SPEM
et spatio brevi longam dry. loquimur dum, fugerit Invid
aetas: carpe diem quam minimum posterior gullible. You do not pretend

coax, Leuconoe, what purpose to me or what purpose the gods
you have brought us, or you practice the Babylonian
cabals. How much better to endure whatever comes, whether Jupiter
has given us more winters, as if it
the last that weakens the Tyrrhenian Sea, with the parapet of rock!
Be wise, filter the wine and, given the brevity of our way, no long coats
hopes. As we speak, will have fled the envious
time. Flower Harvest days without the least trust a tomorrow.

2) Horace, Ep í 1.4.11-14 stoles. SPEM inter

curamque, Timor et inter omnem anger
crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum :
quae non grata superveniet sperabitur hours.

between hope and anxiety, including fear and anger, believes that any
day dawning for you is the rearward :
grata will follow the hours are not expected.

Technorati tags: Horace , Carpe diem , sundial, time , sense of life, Classical Tradition

Lindsey Dawn Sport First

The Rhetoric of Silence With you love to live

guess we've all experienced. Has a broken relationship. No matter why or what part instances. It was decided, by mutual agreement (or not), keep the distance and let time pass. Establishing, in short, the rhetoric of silence . It outlaws the phone calls, emails, phone messages to, nor will most instant messaging contacts. All communication channels have been closed and frozen by decree.

However, perhaps one of the partners (or both) still feels in his heart the embers of the old flame ( Veteris vestigia flammae ). And wait, but do not want or like, but do not assume it is the most appropriate, a communication initiative by the other. Pick up the phone a hundred times a day to make sure that the line remains intact, compulsively check the inbox of the email, check your phone every five minutes to check for new sms alert, monitoring the main Messenger screen with more eye watchful as the monster that guarded Io Argo. But nothing. No communication. It then undergoes rhetoric more eloquent and devastating that exists: the rhetoric of silence.

I would argue are two literary examples of this rhetoric implied, one ancient and one modern. The former example is documented in the history of Aeneas and Dido, as told by Virgil in the Aeneid (especially in Book IV). The Trojan prince Aeneas, after having had an affair in Carthage with Queen Dido (of Phoenician origin) for imposition of fate and the gods must abandon the love Queen, and set sail in search of a destination, Italy, where found the germ of the future state of Rome. Dido fits badly neglect, and suicide. Time after (and en el libro VI de la Eneida ), Eneas desciende a los Infiernos, donde se encuentra con el espíritu de Dido. Le dirige a ella una larga alocución, intentando disculparse. Y ella, por toda respuesta, le contesta muy elocuentemente con la Retórica del silencio. He aquí el emotivo pasaje ( Eneida 4.450-476):



inter quas Phoenissa recens a vulnere Dido
errabat silva in magna; quam Troius heros
ut primum iuxta stetit agnovitque per umbras
obscuram, qualem primo qui surgere mense
aut videt aut vidisse putat per nubila lunam,
demisit lacrimas dulcique adfatus amore est:
«infelix Dido, verus mihi nuntius ergo
venerat exstinctam ferroque extrema secutam?
funeris heu tibi causa fui? per sidera iuro,
per superos et si qua fides tellure sub ima est,
invitus, regina, tuo de litore cessi.
sed me iussa deum, quae nunc has ire per umbras,
per loca senta situ cogunt noctemque profundam,
imperiis egere suis; nec credere quivi
hunc tantum tibi me discessu ferre dolorem.
siste gradum teque aspectu ne subtrahe nostro.
quem fugis? extremum fato quod te adloquor hoc est.»
talibus Aeneas ardentem et torva tuentem
lenibat dictis animum lacrimasque ciebat.
illa solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat
nec magis incepto vultum sermone movetur
quam si dura silex aut stet Marpesia cautes.
tandem corripuit sese atque inimica refugit
in nemus umbriferum, coniunx ubi pristinus illi
respondet curis aequatque Sychaeus amorem.
nec minus Aeneas casu percussus iniquo
prosequitur lacrimis longe et miseratur euntem.
nec minus Aeneas casu percussus iniquo
prosequitur lacrimis longe et miseratur euntem.

Entre ellas, la fenicia Dido, abatida por herida reciente,
erraba en el inmenso bosque; tan pronto el héroe troyano
se plantó junto a ella y la reconoció, oscura, entre las sombras,
como la luna que, al principio del mes,
alguien percibe o cree haber percibido que aparece entre nubes,
estalló en llanto y le habló con dulce love
"Unhappy Dido!," so the news was true
that I had arrived, you had reached your dessert destination,
off to iron? Oh, I was the cause of your death? swear by the stars,
by the gods and how much loyalty there is in the bowels of the earth,
that against my will, Queen, I left your coast.
But to me the orders of the gods, now I am forced to move in the shadows, through places
rot bristling at night deep
pushed me with their opinions, and I could not imagine starting
with my size I would grant you pain.
Stop your step and do not steal my eyes.
do Who are you running? Because of fate, this is the last word that I address. "With these words
Aeneas tried to comfort a spirit
burned and looked grimly, while shedding tears.
She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, without looking,
and her face is moved more by the statement issued, which is fixed
the flinty rock or Marpesia.
Finally, he picked it up and ran
hostile expression of a wet forest, where her former husband,
Sychaeus, serving their sentences and it is up in love.
Aeneas, not less moved by the unfair random
accompanies it from afar with her tears and pity as she leaves.

Note that Virgil devotes 16 verses to present the scene. Of these, the speech of Aeneas takes 11 verses. Dido's response, none. Aeneas cries three times in the beginning, middle and end of the scene.

of modern poetry, the text has moved me most, reflecting the rhetoric of silence, is a famous poem by French poet Jacques Prévert (1900-1977), entitled "Déjeuner du matin" (" Breakfast ") and owned compilation book Paroles (1945). It is titled so because it just describes a breakfast, but could graduate with a phrase that is repeated several veces en el poema, "Without me talking" ("Sin hablarme"), porque el texto refleja muy plásticamente the retórica that sufrir el silencio del Sujeto:




Lunch Morning

It has In the coffee cup

He put the milk in the

cup of coffee He put the sugar in the
latte
With spoon
He turned
He drank the coffee And he

rested the cup Without speaking to me


He lit A cigarette He made
round

With the smoke He put the ashes In the ashtray
Without me about

Without looking at me

He rose

He put his hat on his head
He put his raincoat

Because it was raining And he left

the rain
Without a word Without looking at me


And I took My head


in my hand And I cried. He aquí


una traducción (MIA) al castellano, meramente utilitaria:

Desayuno

Ella echo
coffee in the Echo
taza leche
In the coffee
Echo taza azúcar
En el café con leche Con la
cucharilla

stirred He drank the coffee cup
and left without speaking


lit A cigarette He scrolls

With smoke

threw the ashes in the ashtray
No talk
Without looking


The hat was placed on
head
It was raining Cause Its waterproof

And he left the rain

Without a word Without looking



And I covered my head with her hands and cried
.

There are several similarities between the two texts. The two men covered their beloved opera, and they keep silence. The two beloved of glaze, and beyond at the end. And the two men weep. In the rhetoric of silence.

Technorati tags: Vergil, Aeneid , Aeneas, Dido , Jacques Prévert , Rhetorics , silence, love , Classical Tradition

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In Oda 3.9 of Horacio (65-8 BC) we find a dialogue between the lyrical subject (more or less identifiable with the poet himself) and a former girlfriend, named Lydia. It is a dialogue amebeo , which is that both partners will respond with the same number of lines and similar content in their speeches. The technique is more typical of the genre pastoral and appears only here in the work of Horace. [According to experts, would require that Horace was inspired most probably a composition of Catullus 45, which appears comparable content and also a kind of dialogue between two lovers].

Well, at surgery, Horace and commemorate their love happy Lydia, the second intervention, both now say that they have new lovers (he and Chloe, her Calais), and finally, the third intervention the male subject seeks to take love, and she accepts.

Here is the text latino:

Donec gratus eram tibi
nec quisquam potior bracchia candidae
cervici iuvenis dabat,
Persarum vigui rege beatior.

«donec non alia magis
arsisti neque erat Lydia post Chloen,
multi Lydia nominis
Romana vigui clarior Ilia.»

me nunc Thressa Chloe regit,
dulcis docta modos et citharae sciens,
pro qua non metuam mori,
si parcent animae fata superstiti.

«me torret face mutua
Thurini Calais filius Ornyti,
pro quo bis patiar mori,
si parcent puero fata superstiti.»

quid si prisca redit Venus
diductosque iugo cogit aeneo,
si flava excutitur Chloe
Patet reiectaeque ianua Lydiaa?

"pulcrior
sider quamquam ille est, et inprobo your Levior cortico
iracundior Hadria, tecum vivere
Love Me, lubens obeam tecum."

Fray Luis de León (1527-1591), eminent poet in both their original compositions in his translations of classical Horatian Ode poured with great elegance and accuracy:

HORATIO: While you agradava, and while none
, happier, braces añudava

the beautiful white neck, rather than
Persian king was happy.

LYDIA: And I loved
until another more than me, or wretched, By Cloe
dexaste me,
of all praise, and more
that Ilia was held.

HOR. A
agora send me the Cloe, who sings and plays sweetly vigüela
the sound;
and because their lives are enhanced
, I will die happily.

LY. And I with inflamed
Calais I love and am loved, and if the benign

fate gives longer life, give me
mine lost for good.

HOR. But what if the game becomes
Love, and turns to give firm lacquered;
if my door after the blonde Cloe
secluded
Lydia is open and free entry?

LY. Although Calais is beautiful
than the sun, and you more brave and fierce
that stormy sea, but
light pen,
live and die I want you.

Finally, as the third stage of the poem's poetic evolution, Luis Alberto de Cuenca (Madrid, 1950), whom I quoted another poem in this blog, wrote a "variation" or free version of the poem of Horace, with a more synthetic:

ON AN ODE OF HORACE

-
While I liked and did not
rival that went round your neck with your arms,
was happy.

-
When you loved me and had no eyes for another
and were my faithful slave,
was happy.

- It is now my mistress
a woman more beautiful and more friendly
you. And he has money.
I'm happy.

-
you can not compare the man with whom I go out now.
Young, rich, peaceful.
I'm happy.

- What if I told you:
see, love makes the yoke broke, leaving the idiot that
,
back to me?

- Although he is more beautiful
the sun, and thou the shadow of a shadow,
with you, my life, I
died.

I estimate that there is no full declaration of love more beautiful than Lidia leads Horatio in the last verse of the ode America:

tecum vivere Love Me, tecum obeam lubens
("you love to live, you die willingly.")

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difficult times

been a while since I posted my last entry this blog. I want to thank the faithful readers that despite the long absence, have visited the blog to read past notes, and even have left comments asking me to keep feeding the blog.

In this interval has been around, two major trips (one to Huelva, the other to Cáceres and Hurdes), a personal crisis mood. Problems, crisis, sadness, happiness, in confused uproar, and both in myself and in the immediate environment of family and friends. I guess that is what life in that mixture of sadness and joy.

But globally, and without trying to dramatize, I believe that hard times have been . You know going through difficult times when she stood up in the morning, visualize the day ahead like an endless and long hours (twelve, more or less, in summer more) having to go and live for that day. Hard Times I do not know if you can call it that at this lapse in chronological but in any case, I would remember and copy here a beautiful poem by Luis Alberto de Cuenca, some of whose verses I have been sometimes identified, and entitled precisely with this expression:

TIMES

was all so sad and so absurd.
not just lived. I hung upon the wall
melancholy
and you saw
spend the slow hours that lead to anything and to never. Women will

had withdrawn its protection, the gods
assistance and literature his wing.
those were difficult times. The joint English

"difficult times" translates almost literally the Latin phrase season lasts. The Latin phrase, literally translated into English even more is the one used by the English novelist Charles Dickens to title his famous novel Hard times , published in 1854. In a similar way, Almudena Grandes titled his novel Winds difficult, taking up a mint Manuel Altolaguirre ( already talked about this ). Well, the Latin phrase season lasts documented at least two classic vintage Latin poets, Propertius and Ovid.

Propertius, in his elegy 1.7, lamented the "hard times" ( tough season) that he lives, subjected to the cruelty of his amada Cintia, en contraste con el amigo Póntico, que se dedica a la composición de una epopeya sobre el tema mítico de los Siete contra Tebas. No es de descartar que Luis Alberto de Cuenca pudiera haberse inspirado en este poema de Propercio.

Dum tibi Cadmeae dicuntur, Pontice, Thebae
armaque fraternae tristia militiae,
atque, ita sim felix, primo contendis Homero
(sint modo fata tuis mollia carminibus),
nos, ut consuemus, nostros agitamus amores,
atque aliquid duram quaerimus in dominam;
nec tantum ingenio quantum servire dolori
cogor et aetatis tempora dura queri.
hic mihi conteritur vitae modus, haec mea famast,
hinc cupio nomen carminis ire mei. While you

, Pontic, sing the fatal struggle
Thebes Cadmus and the fratricidal war and - hopefully I felt so happy! -
rival Homer, prince of poets
(if the fates are conducive to your lines),
me, as I usually do, I dedicate my love poetry
and look for something to break my proud owner;
and forces me to be enslaved not so much of my inspiration as my sorrow and regret
the grueling days of my life.
So goes the way I live, so is my reputation, thereby
desire to spread the fame of my verses.
(Trad. A. Ramirez de Verger)

Ovidio, por su parte, en dos ocasiones denomina tempora dura a su período de exilio en Tomis, en conexión con el mal clima de su destino de destierro ( Tristia 5.10.13, Pónticas 4.9.88). En la elegía de Tristia 5.10, en el tercer año de su destierro en Tomis, se queja de lo largo y difícil que se le hace el tiempo vivido en el destierro:

Vt sumus in Ponto, ter frigore constitit Hister,
facta est Euxini dura ter unda maris.
At mihi iam uideor patria procul esse tot annis,
Dardana quot Graio Troia sub hoste fuit.
Stare putes, adeo procedunt tempora tarde,
et peragit lentis passibus annus iter. [...]
Scilicet nouata in nobis est rerum natura, Curis meis
cumque omnia facit longa. An peragunt solitos
temporary COMMUNIA motus, IUF magis stantque
season lasts meae?

Since we are in the Ponto three times with cold froze the Danube,
three times the water of Pontus has solidified.
But to me it makes me that I have been away from home for so many years as Dardania
Troy remained besieged by the Greek.
It seems that time is frozen, so utterly passes slowly, so much so
year-footed crosses his path delinquent. Undoubtedly
nature has been renewed in my injury
and has done all along, as my sorrows.
Or is that the usual stages travel times for ordinary mortals, and are instead
more hard times of my life?

I hope that my readers have a few times "softer" than those of Propertius, Ovid, and Luis Alberto de Cuenca. That is something that should come, in principle, favored by the summer holidays. So

health, Latin and better times for all .