Saturday, 20 November 2010

Poem: Тεκнαтαιн Тαнαтου

Ι've written a poem in Lurioneski, called Тεκнαтαιн Тαнαтου (The Birth of Death)


Καᴧει κοᴧα ᴧeгι δεcποι:
"Cαр! Cαр, cαр! Cαр, гυнα cαрου!
Тε-тε-тεκнαιн тεκнιн гυнα!
Тα-тα-тαнαтαтιн тεκнι!"
Ἁнтрα: "Є, нε κᴧαιοтι, ε.
Καcκιтαтυ цαтιε гнι?
Цαтεн ᴧeгι? Тιc тαнαтι?"
"Тεκнιc, тεκнιc, αυт нε, ουнα,
тεтαнαтι ὡн αнтрωπιc.
Тeειc, παιδο мнι Тαнαтο!"

Ὁ гεгεнοнтιο cαπтεc
cκαzι ειδεтωнтεc ὁπευ:
cмικрεc e παтεтεc φαυнωc,
αнтεc αрαxнεcκε гeει.
Uπтα δeκδυιωc αннωc:
κυнαн, καтοн, υᴧικεc δцαc,
cιнεκαн e φрαтрοн αυтου.
Δυοδeκεc гεгεнι e
ποιεрιδοнтιο αᴧδι
υπтα δeнωc δεδαтα ὁн.


One day a maid says to her master:
"Sir! Sir, sir! Sir, our wive!
The giving be-be-birth to a child of your wive!
She gives birth to the most de-de-dead!"
The man: "Oh, don't weep, oh.
What terrible disaster happens?
What do you say? Who dies?"
"The child, the child, but not, no,
has it died like a human.
By the gods, the child is Death!"

He, having become seven,
crushed what was seen by his eyes:
the small and pitiful of animals,
ants and spiders on the ground.
After twelve years:
a dog, a cat, two of his age,
an old woman and his own brother.
He had become twenty and
stopped working
when, after his parents, being given himself.


It's something of a trochaic tetrameter: the verse is as such:
καᴧει κοᴧα ᴧeгι δεcποι
cαр cαр cαр cαр гυнα cαрου

Also, both halfs consist out of a 4-3-3 combination: in the first piece, they divide the three direct speeches; in the second piece, three stages of his age.

It's pretty ridiculous, I know.

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