Quote:
Originally Posted by Julie Steiner
I wholeheartedly agree.
Thank you for the Occitan, Alex, which I can look at self-importantly and congratulate myself for almost understanding, and for the beautiful SoundCloud reading, which I enjoyed very much.
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You're most welcome. Here's a literal translation of the Occitan to help.
Our victorious soldiers set a house on fire.
The maste/owner, with his sons, went fleeing far yonder
under gunfire; and, on the altar of the ancestors,
far from guarding the house, the altar, and the old creeds,
the Buddha smiled at the wolflike men.
How many hours have passed since? Where now
is the house? Where is the pudgy god whose smiling
face is like indifferent fate?
And, under the mute heavens, when Man prays and cries,
I see the colorful/ruddy jaws of the Buddha,
His moon face, and his tranquil pupils.