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“Mr Hobbes, in the preface to his own bald translation of the "Ilias," (studying poetry as he did mathematics, when it was too late,) Mr Hobbes, I say, begins the praise of Homer where he should have ended it. He tells us, that the first beauty of an epic poem consists in diction; that is, in the choice of words, and harmony of numbers. Now the words are the colouring of the work, which, in the order of nature, is last to be considered; the design, the disposition, the manners, and the thoughts, are all before it: where any of those are wanting or imperfect, so much wants or is imperfect in the imitation of human life, which is in the very definition of a poem. Words, indeed, like glaring colours, are the first beauties that arise, and strike the sight; but, if the draught be false or lame, the figures ill disposed, the manners obscure or inconsistent, or the thoughts unnatural, then the finest colours are but daubing, and the piece is a beautiful monster at the best. Neither Virgil nor Homer were deficient in any of the former beauties; but in this last, which is expression, the Roman poet is at least equal to the Grecian, as I have said elsewhere: supplying the poverty of his language by his musical ear, and by his diligence.”

“مونږ ځانونه څومره غټ ګڼو. اوس خو هر یو کس څه نا څه بچ کوي. ' بوټي بچ کړئ، مچۍ بچ کړئ، ویل سمندري مایان بچ کړئ، سنیل چینجي بچ کړئ.' او تر ټولو زیات غرور خو يې په دې کې دې: زمکه بچ کړئ. مونږ ته خو دا هم نه دي معلوم چې د ځانونو خیال څنګه وساتو. د دا قسمه غ**و خو زه سم تنګ راغلې یم. زه د زمکې غ***ې ورځ Earth Day نه سم تنګ راغلې یم. زه دغه د چاپیریال ساتونکو نه ډیر تنګ راغلې چې ځان ورله ډیر نیک ښکاري، دغه سور پوستکي، منځ پوړي ازاد فکران چې سوچ کوي د دې هیواد یواځینۍ ستونزه دا ده چې دلته د سائیکلو لارې ډیرې نشته. دا خلک د خپلو Volvo موټرونو د پاره نړۍ خوندي ساتل غواړي. هسې هم دغه چاپیرل ساتنې غوښتونکې د زمکې سره هیڅ مینه نه لري. په فکر کې نا، نه يې لري. تاسو ته معلوم دې چې څه سره شوق لري؟ د اوسیدو د پاره یو پاک ځای. خپل استوګن ځای يې. دوئ ناکلاره دي چې په ائنده کې به یوه ورځ دوئ ته تکلیف ورسي. تنګ، په- فکر- تورو مفاداتو سره زه هیڅ شوق نه لرم. زمکې خو د دې نه زیات تکلیفونه تیر کړي. زلزلې، اوراباسونکي غرونه، د زمکې لاندې پتریو خوځیدنه، د براعظمونو بهیدنه، په لمر کې دننه د اور لمبې تیزیدنه، د لمر دننه ځینې ځایونو کې د اور مړیدینه، مقناطیسي توپانونه، د زمکې قطب او شمال برقي وضعې په بل مخ اوړیدنه .........لکونو زرګونو کلونو راهیسې په اسمان کې لمبوزنو شهاب ثاقب، لویو ډبرو او کاڼو په زمکه بمبارۍ، نړیوال سیلابونو، د سپوږمۍ د وجې جوړ شوي غټ سمندري موجونه، نړۍ کې ښور اورونه، د زمکې وروستیدنه او رالویدنه، اسماني شغلې، بیا بیا راتلونکې د واورې دورونه، ..... او مونږ سوچ کوو چې یو څو پلاستک بوجۍ او یو څو د الومینیم ډبي به ډیر فرق راولي؟ زمکه چیرې هم ځي. مونږ ترې روان یو مونږ! مونږ روان یو. یا خلکو! خپل غ* غوشایه مو تړئ. مونږ روان یو. او زمونږ به داسې خاص څه نخښې هم پاتې نشي. کیدې شي لږ د سټائروفوم پلاسټک نخښه به پا تې شي. زمکه به هم دلته وي او مونږ به ترې پخوا تلي یو. د تغیر خوړونکې یو بل ناکامه تجرباتي مخلوق په شان. یو بل حیاتیاتي غلطۍ په شان چې هیڅ ائنده نه لري. یوې بندې ارتقايي کوڅې په شان. دا زمکه به مونږ له خپل بدن نه داسې وڅنډوي لکه کوټک چې پریوځي. مونږ به ترې لاړ یو او دا زمکه به ډیر لوی، لوی او لوی وخت د پاره موجوده وي، او خپل بدن به پخپله روغ کړي، خپل ځان به سپا کړي، ځکه چې زمکه هم دغه شان کوي. زمکه داسې نظام لري چې ځان پخپله رغوي. دا هوا او دا اوبه به بیا روغې شي، زمکه به نوې شي. او که دا رښتیا وي چې پلاسټک په زمکه کې نه ماتیږې، نه وروستیږي او نه ختمیږي، نو په دې کې څه، زمکه به په اسانې سره دا د خپل نوي نظام برخه کړي: زمکه + پلاسټک. زمکه زمونږ په شان پلاسټک سره څه تعصب نه لري. پلاسټک خو د زمکې نه راغلې دې. کیدې شي زمکه پلاسټک ته هم هغسې ګوري لکه چې خپلو نورو بچو ته ګوري. کیدې شې زمکې زمونږ د پیدا کیدو اجازه هم ځکه ورکړې وه چې پلاسټک يې پکار و. خو د جوړولو چل نه ورتلو. نو مونږ ته يې حاجت شو. کیدې شي دا ځواب وي زمونږ د هغه ځان – غټ – ګڼونکي، ځان - خوښونکي فلسفیانه سوال چې دا دې: مونږ دلته ولې راغلي یو؟ ځواب يې پلاسټک دې ...... ک*****و!”

“Hvis I ville tillade os at sige den reene Sandhed, da ansee I os heller som eders egne end som eders Religions Fiender; thi hvis I elskede eders Religion, efterlevede I dens Lærdom. Til Slutning maa vi erindre dette, at, hvis Efterkommere holde for at Europa udi vor Tid har været polered, da vil man citere eder for at vise, at vi have levet i Barbariske Tider, og den Idée som man giør sig af eders Opførsel, vil sværte den Alder, som vi leveudi.”

“In a French accent developed through a lifetime of using English I said, 'Hello sir, I would like to row the English Channel in a bath please.' What actually arrived in the ear of the French Navy man was, 'Hello sire, I would like to fight a condom across a bath if you please.”

“अन्य भाषाका शब्दलाई कविताबाट झिकेर नेपालीमा चोब्दै राख्दै गरेर मात्र नहुँदोरहेछ । तिनलाई पखालेर, धोएर, कुँदेर, सकेसम्म सिँगारेर जतनसाथ राख्नु पर्दोरहेछ ।”

“कविताको अनुवादमा दुईवटा कुराको सन्तुलन अत्यन्त आवश्यक हुनेरहेछ । पहिलो, मूलभाषाले अनुवाद हुने भाषामा गर्ने हस्तक्षेप र दोस्रो, त्यसलाई जोगाउन खोज्दा कविको मूल शैलीमाथि अनुवादकको हस्तक्षेप ।”

“कतिपय अवस्थामा अन्य भाषामा लेखिएका कवितालाई तिनको शैली जस्ताको तस्तै अनुवाद गर्दा ओल्लो भाषामा त्यसले हस्तक्षेप गर्दो रहेछ र त्यहाँ नमिल्ने र कुरो नबुझिने वाक्यांश भएर आउँदो रहेछ । र फेरि त्यस किसिमको हस्तक्षेप हुन नदिन ओर्तिरकै भाषामा चलिरहेको संरचनामा अनुवाद गर्दा मूल कविको शैलीमाथि अनुवादकको हस्तक्षेप हुन पुग्दोरहेछ ।”

“कविताको अनुवादमा दुईवटा कुराको सन्तुलन अत्यन्त आवश्यक हुनेरहेछ । पहिलो, मूलभाषाले अनुवाद हुने भाषामा गर्ने हस्तक्षेप र दोस्रो, त्यसलाई जोगाउन खोज्दा कविको मूल शैलीमाथि अनुवादकको हस्तक्षेप । कतिपय अवस्थामा अन्य भाषामा लेखिएका कवितालाई तिनको शैली जस्ताको तस्तै अनुवाद गर्दा ओल्लो भाषामा त्यसले हस्तक्षेप गर्दो रहेछ र त्यहाँ नमिल्ने र कुरो नबुझिने वाक्यांश भएर आउँदो रहेछ । र फेरि त्यस किसिमको हस्तक्षेप हुन नदिन ओर्तिरकै भाषामा चलिरहेको संरचनामा अनुवाद गर्दा मूल कविको शैलीमाथि अनुवादकको हस्तक्षेप हुन पुग्दोरहेछ ।”

“अन्य भाषाका शब्दलाई कविताबाट झिकेर नेपालीमा चोब्दै राख्दै गरेर मात्र नहुँदोरहेछ । तिनलाई पखालेर, धोएर, कुँदेर, सकेसम्म सिँगारेर जतनसाथ राख्नु पर्दोरहेछ । सिर्जनाको अनुवाद गर्नु भनेको प्रतिसिर्जना वा अधिसिर्जना गर्नु रहेछ।त्यसैले मैले यहाँ शब्दको अनुवाद गरेको छैन । अर्थ वा भावको वा अझ त्यसभन्दाभित्र बरू ती शब्दहरूले छेकेर बसेका दृष्य र सङ्गीतहरूको अनुवाद गर्ने प्रयास गरेको छु ।”

“I am writing this on a computer that I can’t imagine living without. This is an alarming thought, the extent to which I have organised my life around a metal box full of wires (and, via the Internet, to many other metal boxes full of wires). Someone told me most of the Internet is stored in a warehouse somewhere in North Carolina. I don’t know enough about technology to gauge if this is true, but it made me realise how little I actually understand about the world I inhabit. The world of Dr Wong’s childhood was significantly smaller than mine, but he understood every square inch of it.”

“His wife had also studied art in her hometown, and she could paint, but depending on such work for her livelihood was just not possible. As far as appearances went, she was definitely a real beauty. When she was young, she looked a little like Gong Li, but now that she was middle-aged, she had put on weight and gradually taken on more of a bell-shaped look, resembling Li Siqin. But no matter what, a wife always looks better than her balding, broadbellied husband.”

“The sensation of the ocean bearing my weight was the most carefree lightness I’d ever experienced. When we were halfway across the strait, the sound of an engine approached from a distance—it was probably the police coast guard. We quickly ducked under the surface of the water, exposing only the tips of our trunks so we could breathe.”

“There was once an abbot who had spent thirty-nine years alone in the temple with cats as his only companions. As someone who believed that faith and willpower could conquer any difficulty, the abbot began training newborn kittens, trying to turn the impossible into the possible. First he put the rattan hoop on the ground for the kittens to crawl through. Then he slowly raised the hoop little by little, day after day, month after month, and year after year. Years went by and the hoop was gradually raised until he finally succeeded in getting the cats to jump through the hoop. An unusual phenomenon occurred. When the kittens saw the older cats jump, they believed they could do it too and so, without much effort, they learned to jump easily through the hoop as well.”

“Jayden went for my fries, ignoring Anna’s narrowed gaze. “Thanks, babe.” “You two know each other?” Jo gestured between Jayden and me with her fork. Before I could nod, he dropped an arm over my shoulders. “She’s my bae.” I grinned. “Bae?” Keira sighed. “I hate that word. Do you know what it really means?” “Poop,” I answered without thinking. “In Danish.” My eyes widened. Holy crap. I’d spoken without hesitation at lunch! Holy crap! No one recognized my internal freak-out over it, but I couldn’t believe it. I sat there and spoke with no problem. I needed to give myself a cookie. Anna giggled. “Oh, man. I know. I know. Still think it’s a cute word.” Across from her, Keira rolled her eyes. “It literally means shit.” “Mallory is the shit, though.”

“REGISTRO DEGLI INCANTESIMI MARINI REGISTER OF INCANTATIONS PRACTICED BY THE STREGHE, OR SEA WITCHES, OF AMALFI incantesimo di riflusso An incantation to urge water away (ebb). Attrezzo:a belemnite fossil. incantesimo di flusso An incantation to draw water forth (flow). Attrezzo: a mother-of-pearl shell. incantesimo divinatorio An incantation to discern the location of items in the water. Attrezzo: a strand of six sea-derived hagstones. incantesimo raffreddare An incantation to lower the temperature of the water via a cold-water column. Attrezzo: a dried Chondrichthyes eggsack, or "mermaid's purse." incantesimo dell'elemento An incantation to alter the composition of the water. Attrezzo: a fossilized sawfish snout, or "mermaid's comb." incantesimo vorticeAn incantation to conjure a maelstrom or whirlpool. No attrezzo required. vortice centuriaria An incantation to conjure a powerful maelstrom or whirlpool enduring for one hundred years. No attrezzo required, but the strega must remove her protective cimaruta necklace to perform this incantation.”

“While making studies of the revolutionary movement, I was aided for a time by Angelica Balabanoff. This restless, diminutive Russian knew almost everyone engaged in socialist and communist activities. Aflame with the spirit of revolt, she spared no effort to infect others with her hatred for the capitalist regime. She was very useful as she not only brought me in contact with everyone I wished to meet, but she also spoke fluently many of the European languages. She would often sit beside me at conferences and in restaurants, translating into my ear, in a soft and to others almost inaudible voice, everything of interest said by the various speakers, no matter from what country they came. She was afterward one of Mussolini's chief aids and became his assistant editor when he took control of *Avanti*. In 1917 she went back to Russia with Lenin and other communists in the train so kindly provided by the German government, which expected them to augment the chaos already paralyzing its enemies on the East. Revolutionists talk fast and are often well educated. In some groups at dinner three or four languages would be spoken and, of course, at all the socialists and labor conferences delegates from many countries delivered their addresses in their native tongues. These different languages were laboriously translated by official interpreters. It was unnecessary to follow these dreary repetitions when Balabanoff sat beside me. She was often the official interpreter at the larger gatherings and her translations were never questioned — although she often excelled the orator in eloquence when he was expressing some of her cherished and more violently revolutionary views. Although she was a valued aid to both Mussolini and Lenin — I believe she brought them together at one time — and the most impassioned revolutionist I have ever met, she left Russia in 1921, ill and thoroughly disillusioned by the Reign of Terror.”

“When you entered the cavern of another language, you could leave certain people behind, for they had no interest in following you in. You could, by way of translation, emerge from the cavern and share your adventures with them. You didn’t have to be an intellectual in a black beret smoking clove cigarettes to be a translator, not at all. You could become one in your blue flannel pajamas, your face smeared with Clearsil. You did.”