Victory Is Mine! Bring Me the Finest Muffins and Bagels (or Drinks) in All the Land!
AHAHAHAHA. IT IS FINISHED. I HAVE TURNED IT IN, AND WASHED MY HANDS OF IT, AND I AM VICTORIOUS. Pretty sure it's shit towards the end there, but OMG I DO NOT CARE.
I am currently basking in the sort of calm that suggests that I have turned my brain off. Because, yeah, I've got nothing. I'm about to go out for drinks and dinner, and I do not intend to touch anything that resembles school work until at least 4 PM tomorrow. It's all a walk in the park from here on out!
Anyway, here is poetry month's last offering:
"Surrounded by Eunuchs" by Martial
Surrounded by eunuchs and limp as a tissue,
Almo blames his Pollia for bearing no issue.
Okay, okay, I kid. I was just leafing through my massive book of world poetry, and that caught my eye and made me laugh. Ah Martial, it's sort of astonishing and hilarious that your poems full of pithy, filthy put downs have survived almost two thousand years. I feel like if he was alive today, he would have been all over tweeting random, insulting, hilarious shit to his friends and enemies and various celebrities. Okay, here's my real last selection:
"Even He Was Abashed" from the Gathasaptasati, collected by King Hala in the first century C.E., trans. by Martha Ann Selby
Even he was abashed
and I laughed
and held him close
when he went for the knot
of my underclothes
and I'd already untied it.
I figured I'd choose a succinct, to the point little poem on this my day of glory. Anyway, I love that this is a perfect, timeless snapshot of a couple getting ready to have sex. There's a lot of joy and love in these few little lines.
Tomorrow, I will get around to catching up on people's journals! Also, i will make my apartment less of a sty, do laundry, purchase actual food, etc etc.
This entry was originally posted at http://yasaman.dreamwidth.org/345090.html, with
comments there.
I am currently basking in the sort of calm that suggests that I have turned my brain off. Because, yeah, I've got nothing. I'm about to go out for drinks and dinner, and I do not intend to touch anything that resembles school work until at least 4 PM tomorrow. It's all a walk in the park from here on out!
Anyway, here is poetry month's last offering:
"Surrounded by Eunuchs" by Martial
Surrounded by eunuchs and limp as a tissue,
Almo blames his Pollia for bearing no issue.
Okay, okay, I kid. I was just leafing through my massive book of world poetry, and that caught my eye and made me laugh. Ah Martial, it's sort of astonishing and hilarious that your poems full of pithy, filthy put downs have survived almost two thousand years. I feel like if he was alive today, he would have been all over tweeting random, insulting, hilarious shit to his friends and enemies and various celebrities. Okay, here's my real last selection:
"Even He Was Abashed" from the Gathasaptasati, collected by King Hala in the first century C.E., trans. by Martha Ann Selby
Even he was abashed
and I laughed
and held him close
when he went for the knot
of my underclothes
and I'd already untied it.
I figured I'd choose a succinct, to the point little poem on this my day of glory. Anyway, I love that this is a perfect, timeless snapshot of a couple getting ready to have sex. There's a lot of joy and love in these few little lines.
Tomorrow, I will get around to catching up on people's journals! Also, i will make my apartment less of a sty, do laundry, purchase actual food, etc etc.
This entry was originally posted at http://yasaman.dreamwidth.org/345090.html, with
comments there.