The Motor Bus

What is this that roareth thus?
Can it be a Motor Bus?
Yes, the smell and hideous hum
Indicat Motorem Bum...
How shall wretches live like us
Cincti Bis Motoribus?
Domine, defende nos
Contra hos Motores Bos!

--A.D. Godley (1856-1925)
from a letter to C.R.L.F., 10 Jan. 1914

(I happened upon it in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations)

Ha! that's awesome, I'll have to show that to my Latin classes!

Chris

Be sure to include the date! http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/smile.gif



[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited October 25, 2005).]

The Tex-Mex Night Before Christmas
Jim and Nita Lee (Dec. 1972)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through la casa
Not a creature was stirring. ¡Caramba! ¿Qué pasa?
Los niños were all tucked away in their camas,
Some in vestidos and some in pijamas.
While Mamá worked late in her little cocina,
El viejo was down at the corner cantina.
The stockings were hanging con mucho cuidado,
In hopes that St. Nico would feel obligado
To bring all the children, both buenos y malos,
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.
Outside in the yard there arose such a grito,
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
I went to the window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world, do you think que era?
Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero!
And pulling his sleigh, instead of venados,
Were eight little burros approaching, volados.
I watched as they came, and this little hombre
was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre.
Ay, Pancho! Ay, Pepe! Ay, Cuca! Ay, Beto!
Ay, Chato! Ay, Chopo! Maruca and Nieto!
Then standing erect with his hand on his pecho
He flew to the top of our very own techo.
With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chimenea.
Then huffing and puffing, at last in our sala,
With soot smeared all over his red suit de gala,
He filled the stockings with lovely regalos,
For none of the children had been very malos.
Then chuckling aloud and seeming contento,
He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.
And I heard him exclaim and this is VERDAD,
Merry Christmas to all, ¡y Felíz Navidad!



[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited October 25, 2005).]

Oops.

[This message has been edited by Julie Stoner (edited October 25, 2005).]

I think the proper term for this kind of verse is macaronic.

I've used the Motor Bus poem in Latin class and the kids loved it. It's nice to come across it again.

Well, the "Tex-Mex Night Before Christmas" is the nicest piece of macaroni I've come across en un mes de domingos. Thanks Julie, and Alicia.

Julie -

I've been sharing the Tex-Mex Night Before Christmas with my students for a long time, and they absolutely LOVE it!

I'm sure others will adopt it as well.

Chaucito,
Catalina

Carol Taylor has an excellent macaronic she might be persuaded to post here. And Rhina has a serious one, called, I believe, "Bilingual," that many might recall. Personally, I'm still trying to figure out how to write in one language, and I'm making very slow progress.

A Charm Against Indigestion


Absit ventus circum cor,
Likewise epigastric sore;
Absit dolor in jejuno,
Which, post prandium, not a few know;
Absit atrox vomitus
With its horrid sonitus;
Absit tum insomnia;
Bismuth vincit omnia.

- H.A.C. Evans

Alicia,

Thank you for the lovely new word! (New to me, anyway.)

1macaronic 2a: characterized by a mixture of vernacular words or with non-Latin words having Latin endings <many carols are macaronic and in them Latin and English...are often combined with a syntactical accuracy--E.K. Chambers> b: characterized by a mixture of two languages.

2macaronic n -s :macaronic composition or literature: a confused mixed-up piece of writing


Say, Roger, check out that noun definition. I certainly manage to crank out "confused mixed-up pieces of writing" without leaving my native tongue; I'm sure you, too, can aspire to single-language marconics. http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/smile.gif

Oliver and Catherine--Glad you enjoyed!

Mark--thanks for bringing more macaroni to the party. [Urp.]

Julie Stoner

Great idea, Julie. Hope to return before the end of the week.

Margaret.

Well, since we have the Tex-Mex, we should have the Ebonic version.

`Twas Da Night Befo` Christmas

Twas da night befo' Christmas and all in the hood
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good
The tube socks was hung on the window sill
and we all had smiles up on our grill

Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib
in the back bedroom cuz that's how we live
and moms in her do-rag and me with my nine
had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine

All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by
Bumpin phat beats cuz the system's fly
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas'
Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's--
well anyway

I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this!
She said, Stop frontin just mind yo' bidness
I said, for real doe, come check dis out
We weren't even buggin, no worries, no doubt

Cuz bumpin an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh
Da beats was kickin, da ride was phat
I said, Yo red Dawg, you all that!

He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!
To the top of the projects and across the strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"

He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof
and sippin on a 40, he busted a move
I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
he said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!

But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings
a credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.

he slid down the fire escape smoove as a cat
and busted the window with a b-ball bat
I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whydya bust my place?"
he said,"You best get on up out my face!"

His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old
He dropped down the duffle, Clippers logo on the side
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.

A wink of his eye and a shine off his god toof
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof
He jumped in his hooptie with rims made of chrome
To tap that booty waitin at home

and all I heard as he cruised outta sight
was a loud and hearty.....
"WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!!"

Here, minus accents, is JOHN FULLER'S
Mosaique macaronique

Interlocking circles seek
A teasing labyrinthine plan
Au travers le Basilique,
Un pave cailloutis romane.

Galets lisses de St. Pierre,
Blancs et noirs, ils s'entremelent
And we ourselves are walking there,
Treading the shapes of Heaven and Hell.

Dim penitential voices bless
The soaring vaults with F in alt,
Mais sous les pieds de nos faiblesses
Sont cailloux polis de basalte.

Austere Mose et St Pierre
Se rencontrent en mosaique,
Stone on stone established where
The law itself is a mystique.

A grown cathedral can be seen
As something larger than a cairn.
Ses carres rouges comme nougatine
Coupes des volcans de l@Auvergne.

Parfois dans le Basilique
Le basilic comme hypnotiste:
Mountains are where the guilty seek
Interrogation of the Beast.

The walls delight in the grotesque;
God has a righteous chase in view.
Demembrements animent les fresques;
La voute devoile un Absolu.

Le Samedi chez le Basilique
Parfum de basilic, tomates.
Stalls along the pavement reek
Of all that haunts the human heart.


Some neat word-play, I think!
Margaret