foolonthehill is apparently something we need since i can't seem to talk and you can't seem to care.
everything is lost in the translation as my thoughts filter through the cold air. cold because its both of us.
but thats not even true and my melodrama crumbles as it collides with your grinning indifference. i laugh at myself.
i wish you were laughing at something i'd said. you think just like me, but not about this.
we flow back and forth, running long wordless weeks whose silence means nothing to you. i assume you've forgotten forever, but is it only a few hapless seconds for you?
we're friends again then and nothing was wrong. i smile and i hope.
but the spell is broken and my vocal chords freeze in my throat as i stare at you breezing by and wish i could speak.
and no one can translate the the thoughts i don't say.
i want you to hear them and hope that you can't.
whoknows never try to describe the way you feel about poetry because you will always loose something in the translation.

i dont really agree with this. its just something someone once said to me.
whoknows oops
i mean lose... not loose
SuicidalAngel Thatz true, why translate, just apply it to yourself and apreciate it. 011106
whoknows when she told me that, she wasnt speaking of written poetry that people read and analyze in a lit class. it felt like she was speaking of what you think or feel about another person, which is why i dont agree with that statement. even if you lose something in the translation, you should at least try. then the one you love (or hate i guess) will have some idea of how much they mean to you. important things go unsaid all too often. something that could have saved a relationship (romantic, friendly, whatever) isnt spoken. or maybe the relationship couldnt have been saved but you could have tried. but either way, things go bad and a lot of it is because you never talked to each other. 011107
sphinxradio i think,
hope, that you never stopped caring,
and i don't know
what you're trying to say
when you don't talk,
or write letters,
but you just assume i can read your mind.
i think,
know, that it's unlikely
we're even on the same wavelength anymore.
ClairE I wish I could read Neruda
in the original.
unhinged "you are so sweet; someday you will find someone; you really will"


"you're kind of nice but i don't want to have anything to do with you; just hang in there, someday you will find someone as pathetic as you"
werewolf you don't have enough room for my words, i don't have enough for yours...we're going to have to discard some if we're going to house all these new ones 020428
yummychuckle translation:
gdfsng geins giunr vyuskbhg geuilrdb gehj

thats how i feel! a bunch of letters! whenever i feel soemthing, my mind disapears and I have no words.
neirngilerbg eivbr grtbg bdufbg sx

just something impossible to translate.
eklektic the lyrics to "origin of love" in "hedwig and the angry inch" are a translation/adaption of plato's symposium 5: the speech of aristophanes.

When the earth was still flat,
And the clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher,
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked while they read.
And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.

The origin of love

And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
Called the children of the sun.
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.
And the children of the moon
Were like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.

The origin of love

Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said,
"I'm gonna kill them all
With my hammer,
Like I killed the giants."
And Zeus said, "No,
You better let me
Use my lightening like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales
And dinosaurs into lizards."
Then he grabbed up some bolts
And he let out a laugh,
Said, "I'll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half."
And then storm clouds gathered above
Into great balls of fire

And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.
And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.
And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our bellies
To remind us of the price we pay.
And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away,
And if we don't behave
They'll cut us down again
And we'll be hopping round on one foot
And looking through one eye.

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That's the pain,
That cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.
So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Tried to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It's the story of
The origin of love.
That's the origin of love.
babelfish the happy flower smiles at the sun
i love the glowing mornings

lucky flower smile at the sun
I loves the glowing mornings.

the fortunate smile of the flower to the sun loves the mornings of it emitting light.

the happy flower smiles in the love of sun i the mornings becoming incandescent

the happy flower sorride in the love of the sun the mornings of it that become incandescent

the lucky flower smiles in the love of the sun the mornings of it, which become white-hot

the lucky flower smiles in the love of the sun the mornings of it, which become white-heats

the lucky smile of the flower to the sun loves the mornings of her who emits the light.

the fortunate smile of the flower to the sun loves it the mornings of it that the light emits.

the lucky smile of the flower to the sun loves it the mornings from it that the light radiates.

C? G? O? Z? XXDIV? '? K? ^? D? B
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