MADRE

NO SECOND TROY
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
W B Yeats

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ignis
quoquihabin
ardon
calax
spiridon
rusin
fragon
fumaton
ustrax
vitius
siluleus
aenon

Twelve words for ‘fire’ in twelve dialects of Latin, courtesy of Virgilio Grammatico Marone in Epitomi ed Epistole (IV.10)

The saddest thing I've ever seen on my tv screen
Was a dying man who died for his dream
Toughest thing I've ever heard
Was that new-born scream in this sneaky world
Wet Wet Wet ‘Angel Eyes’
from ‘Popped In, Souled Out’
(P)
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"There are nine different words in Maya for the color blue in the comprehensive Porrua Spanish-Maya Dictionary but just three Spanish translations, leaving six butterflies that can be seen only by the Maya, proving beyond a doubt that when a language dies, six butterflies disappear from the consciousness of the earth."

Earl Shorris from the essay The Last Word

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Babe, lets keep it simple
Yeah, why don’t we keep it light
I don’t feel like talkin’ bout
Them heavy things tonite

(DPS)

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