Monthly Archives: November 2011

Jabberwocky

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Al siggio i sunti tovi
Torcan e giran nell’orba:
Framil son i borogovi,
Ed il ratma smorda.

“Temi il Jabberwock, figliolo!
Zanna scrocchia, zampa arraffa!
Temi il beccaccello, fuggi il
Scrumo Bandasnaccia!”

Afferrò la vorpal lama:
a lungo la belva cercò
che sotto l’albero TumTum
a riposar fermò.

Mentre stava così fosco
Jabberwock con occhi in fiamme
Spuntò stroffiando fuor dal bosco
Morbulando tra le zanne.

Un du’! Un du’! E giù e giù
La lama s’irtò slampando!
Finì la bestia e colla testa
Se ne andò zalloppando.

“Ed hai sconfitto il Jabberwock?
Vieni a me o gloriambino!
Che giorngioia! Urrà! Urraia!”
Sgragnò col risolino.

Al siggio i sunti tovi
Torcan e giran nell’orba:
Framil son i borogovi,
Ed il ratma smorda.

Another Anecdote

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I placed a jar in Norwich
but round it was, and rolled downhill.
It made quite a mess
as it fell.

The road rode up, around and into it
it became, for a moment, a creature of wild.
The jar lay shattered on the ground
shards glimmering and sharp.

It lay around everywhere
but not grey and not bare.
The light playing with its glass
changed everything in that street.

——
Anecdote of the Jar

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

Wallace Stevens