[Julie Steiner]

[Never mind. Irrelevant.]

[Ann Drysdale]

I was sure I'd posted a reply, saying that all the Greek was fine and that though I can still see the boxes, I can also see a line below, with u's instead of them. It now makes perfect sense and though I may never know what the letter-boxes look like to other people, I'll take them on trust.

I just wish I knew how this didn't appear when I "posted" it last night. I expect I pressed "enter" instead of "submit". I'm sorry.

[Birthe Myers]

This poem is by Lessing, it is clearly the poem by Meleager in Lessing’s 18th century German interpretation.

Die Biene
by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (born Jan. 22, 1729, in Kamenz, Upper Lusatia, Saxony [Germany]—died Feb. 15, 1781,

Die Biene

Als Amor in den goldnen Zeiten_
Verliebt in Schäfer Lustbarkeiten_
Auf bunten Blumenfeldern lief,_
Da stach den kleinsten von den Göttern_
Ein Bienchen, das in Rosenblättern,_
Wo es sonst Honig holte, schlief.__

Durch diesen Stich ward Amor klüger._
Der unerschöpfliche Betrüger_
Sann einer neuen Kriegslist nach:_
Er lauscht in Rosen und Violen;_
Und kam ein Mädchen sie zu holen,_
Flog er als Bien heraus, und stach.

THE BEE

As Amor, in the golden age,
absorbed in shepherds’ pleasures,
came running through the flower fields,
that smallest of the gods was stung
by a little bee, asleep in a rose,
where it otherwise gathered honey,

This sting made Amor wiser.
That unrelenting scalawag
thought up a new plan of attack..
He lurked in rose and violet
and when girls came to pick them,
he flew out like a bee, and stung.



My own interpretation of the poem:

A new poem, the first one limps - a lot.

Revision

Bee, why leave the fragrant flora,
all in bloom, wherein you dwell?
Were you drawn to Hiliodora
by her skin’s bewitching smell?
If the heart-wound Eros’s sting
causes is the news you bring,
lovers’ friend, fly home again.


The Bee, first try:

Say, Bee, why have you left the flora
of blooming spring wherein you dwell?
Is it the skin of Hiliodora,
that lured you with its tantalizing smell?
Or is the hurt to hearts by Eros’s sting
the message you have come to me to bring?
In that case, lovers’ friend, go home again.

[Roger Slater]

BEE POEM

Oh flower-loving bee, say why
you've left the flower bed behind
to land on Heliodora's skin?
Perhaps your goal is to remind
she's sweet yet bitter to the heart,
the sting of Eros when untrue?
I guess that's it. Go back, my friend.
That's something I already knew.

[Julie Steiner]

Thanks for the Lessing, Birthe. I think the first half of Lessing's poem owes more to a different bee poem from the Greek Anthology, written in the style of Anacreon (Anacreontea 35 [40]). Here's Robert Herrick's translation of it: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/180682

The fact that the national anthem of the United States borrows its tune from a song called "To Anacreon in Heaven" testifies to Anacreon's popularity in the late 1700s and early 1800s; Goethe translated a poem attributed to him, too, then learned to his disgust that many of the poems attributed to Anacreon (582-485 BCE) were actually 2nd- and 1st-century imitations.

The second half seems to be all Lessing's, although I could be mistaken.

[Birthe Myers]

Thank you, Julie, for the link. Herrick's is better even than Lessing's. What riches the Greek poets have left us.

[W.F. Lantry]

Originally Posted by Maryann Corbett

(Ann, since I'm not seeing anything like FE over 36, I think there's something amiss with the way your browser is rendering the code for the Greek. Perhaps Bill Lantry can be of assistance.)

Oh, boy. What did I do? I'm just browsing through, mindless as usual, when I should be writing a long poem I don't know how to start, (how does one compose hallelujah, after all?), when I stumble across this and find myself grateful for the distraction.

The whole text, including special characters, renders well for me, because I use a special version of Chrome called Canary. http://www.google.com/intl/en/chrome...er/canary.html

I was happy to find it, as I don't have a monitor any more. Instead, I have a 40" HDTV hooked up to my computer. Normal web browsers render text horribly on it... they are truly unreadable. But, with a little tweaking, Canary turns every site into a thing of beauty. I seldom recommend specifics, but everyone who has problems like the ones described should at least give Canary a try. It was a great find for me.

Now, if only I could find the secret chord some aging poet mentioned once...

Best,

Bill

[Julie Steiner]

I've made a slight change to the rules of the secondary event, which was to translate this bee-themed poem by Meleager from Ancient Greek to contemporary English.

You now have to translate it from Ancient Greek to Korean.

Just kidding, it's not that big a change in the rules, but this being Eratosphere, I'm sure several of you won't be happy about it. Anyway, details here.

I also wanted to note that χροὸς Ἡλιοδώρας does not have to be rendered as "Heliodora's skin," even though "skin" is the primary meaning of the noun χρώς. If you follow the link above, you'll see that Meleager seems to have used the word more generally to mean "flesh" or even "body"...and "flesh" might make perfect sense in a line which began with such a five-dollar word to emphasize that the bee is a vegetarian.

I mention this not because I'm unhappy with anyone's translation, but because I'm hoping it might spark some exciting new possibilities.

I realize that everyone is busy, but I'd love to see each of you who's already entered (and some of you who haven't) try rendering the poem in a startlingly different form--for example, with each distich as a limerick.

Mind you, I'm not the judge for this secondary event--the winner will be declared by popular vote. But I really think that humor is appropriate for Meleager, who throws out all these zany coinages and tongue-in-cheek, high-falutin' forms of words. I don't think he takes himself too seriously, and we shouldn't either.

Again, the link above, to Meleager's first mosquito poem, might inspire folks to have a little more fun with the bee poem, too.

[Ann Drysdale]

Bee who belongs in blossoms, tell me this –
what is the meaning of the little kiss
you plant upon the skin of Heliodora
in preference to all the vernal flora?
Is it a hint that she’s a bit perplexing,
sugar and vinegar combined; that vexing
and inescapable hurt in the heart
that indicates the sting of Cupid’s dart?
If that’s your message, matey, off you go –
you’re telling me what I already know.

[Susan McLean]

Blossom-dwelling bee, why do you land
on Heliodora, leaving buds of spring?
To show she has an agonizing sweetness
that always stabs the heart with Passion’s sting?
I think that’s it. Go back, you friend to the lover!
The message that you bring I’ve known forever.