Transelating "The Waste Land" |
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The transelations by stanza 1
| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
| 6 | 7
| 8 | 9 | 10
| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
0. T.S Eliot Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, Had a bad cold, nevertheless Is
known
to be the wisest woman in With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations. Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: One must be so careful these days.
1. Devin Tasker The omnipotent, notorious, Sorceress, Known for her deviousness, nevertheless Is still aptly named the wisest woman alive, Aided by her wicked deck of cards. She pulled some, And told me my future. The first: A soldier’s watery grave, Unblemished jewels lying by decayed remains. The Second: A deadly siren, A lady who signs beautiful lies, The third: A man with danger on all sides, The fourth: A wheel of inevitable revolution, The fifth: A ragged, one-eyed merchant, The sixth she will not show me, for I don’t have the sight. She tells me its nature: the same burden which cripples the merchant. I fear not death by the law, but rather from the sea. The final card: crowds of people, circling. I thank the witch, and tell her to warn Fate, That I hold the knowledge of my future, And I will outwit even her.
Yellow bicycles roam, famished soothsayers, old hags, undress in town under eyes lit under years of rope, wicks stacked in shards. There, it is silent, hissing shard, hedonist phoenixes railing or (see the shells that held his sight. He sought!) where Isabella donned rocks to die, melody of places and times. Another captured at sea, betting, clinching planks, harried in his organs, Again blinding everything on the other side of skin. Idle knots are things in hands. Torn teeth flying towards her. Sinking crows off populating, balking rounds. Tanks hew. Fucking scenes of equines, All harried in rings holes scoping hyacinths: ther hooves fall fully these days.
3. Emma Tome Hollow cyclic loam, banished roots lay there, senile, nude, obsessed. In the ground, behind eyes under gearing sloped without ostentation. Racked for attention, hissing hard, hubristic phallic ramblings – bees held obscured. Their flighty, taut, hairs; rubella, sun flocked nigh, maladies replaced in kind. Mothers enraptured, seeing them stitching pi together, carried in flanks. Ogres emboldend, everything collapsing, coalesced on the opposites. Knotted, wringing hands born breech, crying, from her. Singing closed, off population, sulking sounds tan eschewed, clucking green equilibrium. All carried, singing, doled sloping hymns: behoove us of your graces.
4. Aly Wong Thick linear shoots, banished and nude in the night. There eyes are obsessed, yet elderly. Simple racking hate, the hissing seeps into the soil with groans of despair Only the bees, with their flight and mock hairs can worship the sun's ladies. Replaced by delight or perhaps it has fallen apart too fast. Ogres collapsing on the opposite sides of my wringing hands. Born breech, crying from me. The somber silent singing off key. Sulking the sounds that eschew my heart. Oh, green equilibrium, carry me and sing me into a slow hymn: give us the grace we deserve.
Slick lines shot, the bane of News in the light Ice - there are obsessive yielding Slight raking slate, the hitting ceases in the soul of grain, The spare bag Only the beast, its flight and mockery can waste ships on the sun-lads, Replicated in the light or peradventure fallen apart incandescently. O gyres calling on the opposing side of my wringing stand. Bones break - calling to me, The somber silencing of song, the key slyly sounding the cues to my heart Oh, great equity, course to me and send me into a soft voice - give us the rest we serve.
6. Rose Booker Tick hires snot, he bares off Yews of light Nice - here obstruction stopping Snake laking Mate, he Strikes lines of souls shoes gram cracker POP! The new bag nylon beast flips monkeys wasting ships on moon banks represent bark ro tureperada fall part candescently so gorge calls opposite diamonds for stands Head opens - shouting Slobber quietly a sad melody, lock Lie creaking cuts my heat Hoe - great cliche course to me and end soft toe East is rest
Tock, tick, here clock, barren years light upon necessity; again, hear obstructed stalking slipping along meter striking like sour shallow grammatical cries. Oops…. Noon begs the Neptunian brats to maintain floating wastelands. Shall monkeys bend presentation to remark on turpentine failure, partly canonical? Such huge coliseums open to diagonal food stalls. Hear upon the air, screams, sobbing quite, melodic songs, latched to lies created by heart-cuts. Here; circle grandly ‘cause, for you, the eternal slumber sits easily.
Click, click, my teeth are bare light years away from sanity; again, my footsteps obstructed sliding along time never like sour oranges on baby's cries. Never… the night begs to float above dreams wishes. Should they bend rules to remark on sudden desire, partly devised? Such huge memories open to diagonal interpretations. Hair upon her ear, sighs, sobbing quietly, melodic songs, latched to lies created by heartbreaks. Now; check the box yes, for you, the eternal wish I grant.
9. Andy Iser Bloody insane my teeth clicking my fortune in Moris Code, poison oranges putting me into a state of obstructed vision, never do I beg to float with the dreams and wishes of idol minds, sudden desire, a distant hope, a fortuitous nightmare, a warning to get vaccinated against vaccinations, such thoughts and memories traveling diagonally my brain missing half of it all, i’m taught to fear crowds, water, long hair, dissonant harmonies, latched to other’s wishes I hang in silence, not knowing, realizing, feeling anything, happy actually. check everything you know to be eternal.
10. Sandra Khalifa Bloody but sane is my tea for
two in Boys in orange fuddling to state a structured vision. Ever do I beckon to hopes of the sea and fishes with wider minds, Jutting steep spires, a dissident pope, a fortunate white mare, a swarming of vaccines against vacations, lush thoughts and memoirs of our travels, dragons in pain missing half a tail. I'm wrought with a fear of clouds, water, long stares, distant money. Matched to other's wishes, I sang in silence, not knowing real icing, real things, sappy facts. Wreck everything you know to be eternal.
11. Yehonatan Sella Body- and saying, "my tea sticking me
in Boys send orange pudding to the queen. A structured vision - Whatever. Shall I beckon to moats with my steamboat? Or fish in wider finds? The dish, I must say, is excellent. A warming of stomachs against the dinner table. Luscious, and more of her secret recipe. Dragging on; a hissing of half a tail. She brought the "fear clouds," and much water. Long stairs distance me from my feet, and the rest. I climbed silently, not knowing if my right foot or my left was the numb one— Lick everything yo know to be edible. |
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© English 43b Class of Spring 2008 |