mardi 12 mai 2015



Non ego virgineos iubeo cognoscere ludos
nec teneras tractare genas aut dulcia nuptis
oscula conferre et tenues astringere mammas,
non liquidum captare merum tenerumve fricare
femen et in niveos oculum iactare lacertos.
Evoco vos ad amara magis certamina Martis.
Bello opus est nec amore levi, nihil hic quoque facti
mollities enervis habet; res proelia poscit.
J. Olrik's edition

I do not now bid ye learn the sports of maidens,
nor stroke soft cheeks, nor give sweet kisses
to the bride and press the slender breasts,
nor desire the flowing wine and chafe the soft thigh and
cast eyes upon snowy arms.
I call you out to the sterner fray of War.
We need the battle, and not light love;
nerveless languor has no business here: our need calls for battles.
Elton's translation
Vekka yðr at víni
né at vífs rúnum,
heldr vekk yðr at hörðum
Hildar leiki.
Finnur Jónsson's edition
I wake you not to wine
nor to women’s converse,
but rather to the hard
game of Hild.
Hollander's translation

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