Wednesday, March 31, 2021

DUNKIN DNTS, from Bobby Goosey's Book of Highly Sensical Nonsense

                                                                                 DNTS


Dunkin Dnts

(An Example of the Logic of Abbreviation)

 Some words are too long; they take too long to say. On account of we take too long to say words, we lose valuable time. Big words should be made shorter. One example of the logic of abbreviation: the word “doughnut” should be contracted to “dnt” (pronounced dunt). Here’s how it works. First, we put in an apostrophe for the “u,” leaving the word doughn’t. Then, grunting a strenuous ugh, we can push out three more unnecessary letters: “ugh,” get it? Leaving us with the word “don’t.” But we don’t want don’t to mean doughnut, do we? Because “don’t” already means don’t.

 This problem is easily remedied. The “o” in our abbreviated don’t represents the hole in the doughnut, and since that hole contains nothing but empty space, we can easily dispense with the letter “o,” leaving us with the ideal shortened form of “doughnut,” namely dnt (pronounced dunt). Notice how much faster you can say the word dnt, instead of doughnut.

 If we all start using the word dnt right now, soon everyone will be saying it. The word doughnut, being superannuated and unnecessary, will disappear from the language and not be missed. I had a delicious glazed dnt for breakfast this morning, although normally I prefer chocolate cake dnts. My big sister likes sugar dnts most of all, but my little brother does not like dnts; he says, silly he, that dnts don’t taste good. He likes jellers (jelly rolls) and crmps (cream puffs). But my little sister likes everything: jellers and dnts and crmps, and even vegetables like trnps!

 See how much time it saves you to say shorter words! Start eating dnts instead of doughnuts today! Need to buy some fresh ones? Best place to go is Dunkin Dnts.



Friday, March 26, 2021

Translation of Poem by Nikolai Aseev, "Хор вершин," "CHOIRS IN THE HEIGHTS"

 

Levitan, "Spring in the Alps," 1897

NIKOLAI ASEEV

Николай Асеев

(1889-1963)

 

Хор вершин

 

Широкие плечи гор –

Вершин онемелый хор,

Крутые отроги

У самой дороги –

Времен замолчавший хор.

 

Высокие тени гор . . .

С беспамятно давних пор

Стоят недотроги

У самой дороги –

Затихший внезапно спор.

 

Когтистые ребра круч,

Катящие шумный ключ.

Туманные кряжи

Завеяны в пряже

Вот здесь же

Рожденных туч.

 

Что каменных гряд полоса,

Должна быть и песен краса,

Чтоб в небо вздымались,

Как каменный палец,

Один за другим голоса.

 

Source: The Penguin Book of Russian Verse, edited by Dimitri Obolensky, 1967, p. 328-29.

 

d

 

 

Literal Translation

 

Choir in the Heights

 

The broad shoulders of mountains.

The gone-mute choir of summits,

The steep escarpments

Right by the roadside.

The fallen-silent choir of times.

 

The tall shadows of mountains . . .

From time immemorial

Stand touch-me-not

Right by the roadside,

Abruptly hushing their argument.

 

The clawed ribs of slopes,

Which pour forth a noisy spring,

The hazy ridges

Are wrapped in the yarn

Of rain clouds that are born

Right here on this spot.

 

That the strip of rocky ridges

Must be also the beauty of songs,

So that like a stone finger

They soar up into the sky,

The voices, one after the other.

 

 

d

 

 

Literary Translation/Imitation by U.R. Bowie

 

Choirs in the Heights

 

Mountains so broad in the shoulders,

Choirs of summits gone mute in their boulders.

Escarpments that rise up way high on the steep,

Right by the roadside they loom there in sleep,

The choirs of time that won’t sing in their boulders.

 

Shadows of mountains stand tall and refined,

They’ve stretched high, they loom there from time out of mind.

They cringe back, they’re shy and eschew touchy-feely,

Right by the road they play touch-me-not-really,

Then hush and fall silent, to strife disinclined.

 

The ribs of the slopes that at hazy sky claw,

They urp out a spring that flows burbly-guffaw.

Right here in this heaven dark rainclouds are born,

They blow through the ridges in mistness adorned,

And winnow escarpments all fleece and scrimshaw.

 

The stripes and the strips of the ridges in rockiness

Sing out their pure rhythms, excelling in cockiness;

So steeped in pure beauty, the voice of those songs

Soars high up in sky, where it hovers and longs

For the stone-finger ridges, scaberulous pockiness.

 

 


                                                                            Nikolai Aseev

 


Translation by Samuil Marshak of Robert Burns, "Is There, For Honest Poverty," translation back into modern English by U.R. Bowie

 



Роберт Бёрнс (Robert Burns)

Честная бедность

 

Год издания: 1969 г.

Перевод С. Я. Маршака

 

 

 

 

 Кто честной бедности своей

 Стыдится и все прочее,

 Тот самый жалкий из людей,

 Трусливый раб и прочее.

 

При всем при том,

При всем при том,

Пускай бедны мы с вами,

Богатство -

Штамп на золотом,

А золотой -

Мы сами!

 

 Мы хлеб едим и воду пьем,

 Мы укрываемся тряпьем

 И все такое прочее,

 А между тем дурак и плут

 Одеты в шелк и вина пьют

 И все такое прочее.

 

При всем при том,

При всем при том,

Судите не по платью.

Кто честным кормится трудом,

Таких зову я знатью,

 

 Вот этот шут - природный лорд.

 Ему должны мы кланяться.

 Но пусть он чопорен и горд,

 Бревно бревном останется!

 

При всем при том,

При всем при том,

Хоть весь он в позументах, -

Бревно останется бревном

И в орденах, и в лентах!

 

Король лакея своего

 Назначит генералом,

 Но он не может никого

 Назначить честным малым.

 

При всем при том,

При всем при том,

Награды, лесть

И прочее

Не заменяют

Ум и честь

И все такое прочее!

 

Настанет день и час пробьет,

 Когда уму и чести

 На всей земле придет черед

 Стоять на первом месте.

 

При всем при том,

При всем при том,

Могу вам предсказать я,

Что будет день,

Когда кругом

Все люди станут братья!

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                 Literal Translation

 

                                                                   Honest Poverty

 

One who his honest poverty

Is ashamed of and so forth,

Is the most pitiful of persons,

A cowardly slave and so forth.

 

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Though you and I be poor,

   Affluence

   Is a stamp on a gold [coin],

   While you and I

   Are the gold!

 

We eat bread and drink water,

We clothe ourselves in rags,

And lots of other so forth,

While meanwhile some fool and some cad

Are dressed in silk and drink wine,

And lots of other so forth.

 

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Judge not [a person] by dress,

   He who honestly feeds himself by his labor,

   That’s who I call the aristocracy.

 

Take that lout—he’s a lord by genealogy.

To him we have to bow.

But even though he’s supercilious and proud,

A blockhead is still a blockhead!

 

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Although he’s dressed in gold braid and lace,

   A blockhead remains a blockhead,

   Even wearing medals and ribbons!

 

A king his lackey

Designates a general,

But no way he can designate

Anyone to be a decent fellow.

 

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Awards, flattery

   And so forth

   Cannot replace

   Intelligence and honor

   And all such so forth!

 

The day will come and hour strike

When intelligence and honor

Will have their turn all over the earth

To stand in first place.

 

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   Notwithstanding all of this,

   I can predict for you

   That there will come a day

   When all over

   All people will be brothers!

 

 

                                     d

 

                                                         Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

 

                                                                    The Honorable Poor

 

A man who’s poor but honest poor,

Yet cowers in shame, and so forth,

Pathetic is he, full of rot at the core,

A coward, a slave, and so forth.

 

   Be that as it may in the wet month of May,

   Be that as it may on a horse that says “neigh,”

   Though you and I be poor,

   Wealth

   Is a stamp on a coin of pure gold,

   While you and I,

   We’re the gold!

 

We eat our bread and water drink,

We clothe ourselves in rags, not mink,

And such and so and so forth,

While meantime scoundrels, low-down cheats

Drink wine and sleep on silken sheets,

And so on, such and so forth.

 

   Be that as it may in the moist month of May,

   Be that as it may on a day making hay,

   You can’t judge a man by the clothing he wears,

   If a bloke earns his way by the sweat of his brow,

   He’s a grandee by gum, and a man of affairs!

 

Of manor born a lord, but a lout,

To him we needs must bow and scrape,

He’ll preen and he’ll swagger like all get-out,

But he’ll still be a great-big dumbbell ape!

 

   Be that as it may in the dank month of May,

   Be that as it may on a rain-sodden day,

   Although he’s outfitted in gold braids and lace,

   He’ll still be a moron, a woebegone drudge,

   Though in ribbons and medals encased.

 

Let’s say a king his lackey base

Promotes to be Supreme Marshmallow,

But notwithstanding his power and grace,

He can’t make a toady a decent fellow.

 

   Be that as it may in the warm month of May,

   Be that as it may as we stray and then pray,

   Lickspittle fawning befitting a twit,

   And such and so and so forth,

   Cannot be a match for pure honor and wit,

   And all of that so on and so forth!

 

The day will come, the hour strike

When through the world and on this earth

Pure wit and honesty, belike,

Will merit their true worth.

 

   Be that as it may in the bright month of May,

   Be that as it may on a Mayday that’s gay,

   I have for you a prognostication:

  The day will come when brotherhood

  Reigns o’er all God’s creation!

 

 

                      d

 

Tune - "For a' that, and a' that."


I.

Is there, for honest 
poverty,
That hangs his 
head, and a' that?
The coward-
slave, we pass him by,
We dare be 
poor for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Our toils obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that!

II.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a' that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man, for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is 
king o' men for a' that!

III.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd - a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that, and a' that,
His riband, 
star, and a' that,
The man of independent 
mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

IV.

A king can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that,
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid 
faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities, and a' that,
The pith o' 
sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks than a' that.

V.

Then let us 
pray that come it may -
As come it will for a' that -
That sense and worth, o'er a' the 
earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man to man, the warld o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that!


Robert Burns