[Lance Levens]

Susan McLean and Gail White both have pieces in the new First Things. For Gail this is 2 mos. in a row! Congratulations, ladies!

[Charlotte Innes]

Fantastic, congrats to both! Thanks, Lance for posting.

Charlotte

[Michael Cantor]

Oh the agony, the awful pain
when McLean is written as McLane.
I'm sure that it meant nothing mean -
a simple goof by Lance Levine -
and both our buddies should be hailed:
the one misspelled, and the one reGailed.

Congrats, guys!

[Alex Pepple]

Congratulations, Gail! Congratulations, Susan!

(Meanwhile, I'll pretend to be Lance's editor & 'tweak' his post! )

Cheers,
...Alex

[R. Nemo Hill]

Another parody down the drain, Michael.
There's gotta be a better way to pass the time.

Congrats, Susan & Gail.

Nemo

[Lance Levens]

Susan,

Que peut je dire?

The humiliation approaches exponential. Full disclosure for all:
Susan's translation in First Things is from Jean de la Ceppede, 16th century French magistrate. It's elegant and witty. I--not Susan--first posted a version of the same poem about two months ago on Translation. Eventually, we had three translations of the same sonnet: mine, Susan's and Chris Childer's erudite rendition. Susan and Chris both posted better versions!!!! She sent hers off and got a genuine Wild Bill Hickock badge back from First Things--then I go and misspell her name. Ar-r-g-g-gh-h-h!

Bless you Alex.

[W.F. Lantry]

Originally Posted by Lance Levens

Que peut je dire?

Dear Lance,

Not to pile on in your distress of typos, but this should probably be:

"Que puis-je dire?"

Best,

Bill
(taking cover under this handy table... )

[Susan McLean]

Thanks, Lance. It is an easy mistake to make, since my name is spelled McLean but pronounced McLane. I am grateful to you both for introducing me to the original poem and for being so gracious about my appropriation of it for translating. Congratulations, Gail, and I look forward to reading your poem.


Susan

[Tim Murphy]

Congratulations to two of my favorite poets. And to First Things. Publishing only about five poems per issue, Paul Lake punches way above his weight. An on-line subscription is only about $30 a year, and it's the best subscription money I spend.