Liber III (MMXXV)
Carmina Trivialia
Nota Bene: This collection was originally presented at a conference held on March 6-8, 2025 at Marshall University, themed Goddess at the Crossing Place, in celebration of the 150th anniversary of their Classics Department. What follows includes the poetry, as well as the introductory materail, in the order in which it was read (very minorly edited). The scansion notes provided are those I used to assist in my reading of the Latin. An audio recording of the entire presentation will be added here as soon as I am able to record it.
Capitula
III.I Nulla Sum Naso
III.II Ad Antiquitatem
III.III Clavis Apta
III.I Nulla Sum Naso
III.II Ad Antiquitatem
III.III Clavis Apta
Before I begin, I want to thank the conference organizers and Marshall University Classics for making this moment possible. Reading new Latin poetry out loud to a live public audience is not a typical moment in the modern world. Now, for that moment:
It’s not that anyone was consciously thinking that women were inferior, but that qualities associated with masculinity were held in higher regard than qualities associated with femininity, and so the culture of the academic environment encouraged structured feedback on technical skill with concern for accuracy, to the detriment of growth mindset, art in the broadest sense, and ingenuity, for it is only in the creative pursuit of what has not been done that we will discover new things. Where I was trying to approach Latin poetry as a person who wrote English poetry – artist to artist – my professors were responding as academics – scientist to artist – in an environment where science was of intrinsically higher value than art.
I was doomed from the beginning.
My criticism of that environment, both then and now, is that poetry, especially in Latin and Greek, is best appreciated and understood through both lenses. As a 20-year-old undergrad, I was badly unprepared to make that point in a way that was both clear and academically palatable. I was 20. I knew everything.
Today, I will begin my poetry reading with 40 lines describing a slightly mythologized version of my progression through Latin poetry, from a high school student, learning to memorize, to an undergraduate student attempting to compose Latin poetry, to a PhD Candidate and High School Latin teacher, putting Latin poetry on my website for anyone to read.
First, I will read it in Latin, and then I will read it in English.
It’s not that anyone was consciously thinking that women were inferior, but that qualities associated with masculinity were held in higher regard than qualities associated with femininity, and so the culture of the academic environment encouraged structured feedback on technical skill with concern for accuracy, to the detriment of growth mindset, art in the broadest sense, and ingenuity, for it is only in the creative pursuit of what has not been done that we will discover new things. Where I was trying to approach Latin poetry as a person who wrote English poetry – artist to artist – my professors were responding as academics – scientist to artist – in an environment where science was of intrinsically higher value than art.
I was doomed from the beginning.
My criticism of that environment, both then and now, is that poetry, especially in Latin and Greek, is best appreciated and understood through both lenses. As a 20-year-old undergrad, I was badly unprepared to make that point in a way that was both clear and academically palatable. I was 20. I knew everything.
Today, I will begin my poetry reading with 40 lines describing a slightly mythologized version of my progression through Latin poetry, from a high school student, learning to memorize, to an undergraduate student attempting to compose Latin poetry, to a PhD Candidate and High School Latin teacher, putting Latin poetry on my website for anyone to read.
First, I will read it in Latin, and then I will read it in English.
Nulla Sum Naso
1. Vīrgināle māgnificēntiā tūnc
2. āsperō sub āūspiciō magīstrī
3. mētricōs pedēs recitāns revōlvī
4. Vērgiliānōs.
5. Āmovēmus ābstulimūs canōrēs
6. quāsque līnguās Mēlpomenās Thalīās;
7. dīssecāmus ōmnivagās figūrās
8. nōs studiōsī.
9. Lāēta tōtās nōscere pūlchritūdō
10. māēsta fōrmēllās cupit īnterāptās
11. quās dirēmptās nēxere dīligēntēr
12. hās speciōsās.
13. Līmine ādvēntō superō novō nūnc
14. quāēstiōnēs fēmina dē labēllīs
15. ācris āmīttō petulāns remōtās
16. īmperiōsīs.
17. Ōrdinō conāta poēma cērtē
18. “Tūte hiātum ēlīsum adigīs” locūtūs
19. Īlle “nōn es ōptima tū Catūllūs
20. nūllaque Nāsō.”
21. Crīmine ēxāctō posita īnsonēns vōx
22. clūditūr dūm plūma labōrat āēquē
23. cēreūs liquēscit ego ātque sūm nōn
24. ūllaque Nāsō.
25. Cērulīs et ūna alia āla dēxtrīs
26. pōnitūr; pēnnās breviōre lōngās
27. īnsequēntī Dāēdalicās locāvī
28. stānt manus ēt pēs.
29. Mōx magīstra prōsiliō scholārūm
30. dēdita īn tēctīs folio ēvolūtō.
31. Scrīpta cīstulā mea cōntinēbām;
32. sīc renovāmūr.
33. Ēvolūtāē plūmipedēs et ālāē
34. pūlchriūs cērtē volitant; canōrēs
35. prōdeūnt ād līmina vīrginālēs.
36. Sīc recitāntur.
37. Cōnvolēmus ādveniāmus ōmnēs!
38. Pāginās neōtericās gerēntēs
39. fābulās amōr renovēt! Melōdāē
40. dēnt animam ādflēnt!
[Scansion]
1. [Vīrgĭ][nālĕ] [māgnĭfĭcēn][tĭā tūnc]
2. [āspĕ][rō sŭb] [āūspĭcĭō] [măgīstrī]
3. [mētrĭ][cōs pĕ][dēs rĕcĭtāns] [rĕvōlvī]
4. [Vērgĭlĭ][ānōs.]
5. [Āmŏ][vēmŭs] [ābstŭlĭmūs] [cănōrēs]
6. [quāsquĕ] [līnguās] [Mēlpŏmĕnās] [Thăl ī ās;]
7. [dīssĕ][cāmŭs] [ōmnĭvăgās] [fĭgūrās]
8. [nōs stŭdĭ][ōsī.]
9. [Lāētă] [tōtās] [nōscĕrĕ pūl][chrĭtūdō]
10. [māēstă] [fōrmēl][lās cŭpĭt īn][tĕrāptās]
11. [quās dĭ][rēmptās] [nēxĕrĕ dī][lĭgēntēr]
12. [hās spĕcĭ][ōsās.]
13. [Līmĭn][e ādvēn][tō sŭpĕrō] [nŏvō nūnc]
14. [quāēstĭ][ōnēs] [fēmĭnă dē] [lăbēllīs]
15. [ācrĭs] [āmīt][tō pĕtŭlāns] [rĕmōtās]
16. [īmpĕrĭ][ōsīs.]
17. [Ōrdĭ][nō cŏ][nātă pŏē][mă cērtē]
18. [“Tūte hĭ][ātum ē][līsum ădĭgīs”] [lŏcūtūs]
19. [Īllĕ] [“nōn ĕs] [ōptĭmă tū] [Cătūllūs]
20. [nūllăquĕ] [Nāsō.”]
21. [Crīmĭn][e ēxāc][tō pŏsĭta īn][sŏnēns vōx]
22. [clāūdĭ][tūr dūm] [plūmă lăbō][răt āēquē]
23. [cērĕ][ūs lĭ][quēscĭt ĕgo āt][quĕ sūm nōn]
24. [ūllăquĕ] [Nāsō.]
25. [Cērŭ][līs ĕt] [ūna ălĭa ā][lă dēxtrīs]
26. [pōnĭ][tūr; pēn][nās brĕvĭōr][ĕ lōngās]
27. [īnsĕ][quēntī] [Dāēdălĭcās] [lŏcāvī]
28. [stānt mănŭs] [ēt pēs.]
29. [Mōx mă][gīstră] [prōsĭlĭō] [schŏlārūm]
30. [dēdĭt][a īn tēc][tīs fŏlĭo ē][vŏlūtō.]
31. [Scrīptă] [cīstŭ][lā mĕă cōn][tĭnēbām;]
32. [sīc rĕnŏ][vāmŭr.]
33. [Ēvŏ][lūtāē] [plūmĭpĕdēs] [ĕt ālāē]
34. [pūlchrĭ][ūs cēr][tē vŏlĭtānt;] [cănōrēs]
35. [prōdĕ][ūnt ād] [līmĭnă vīr][gĭnālēs.]
36. [Sīc rĕcĭ][tāntŭr.]
37. [Cōnvŏ][lēmŭs] [ādvĕnĭā][mŭs ōmnēs!]
38. [Pāgĭ][nās nĕ][ōtĕrĭcās] [gĕrēntēs]
39. [fābŭ][lās ă][mōr rĕnŏvēt!] [Mĕlōdāē]
40. [dēnt ănĭ][mam ādflēnt!]
1. [Vīrgĭ][nālĕ] [māgnĭfĭcēn][tĭā tūnc]
2. [āspĕ][rō sŭb] [āūspĭcĭō] [măgīstrī]
3. [mētrĭ][cōs pĕ][dēs rĕcĭtāns] [rĕvōlvī]
4. [Vērgĭlĭ][ānōs.]
5. [Āmŏ][vēmŭs] [ābstŭlĭmūs] [cănōrēs]
6. [quāsquĕ] [līnguās] [Mēlpŏmĕnās] [Thăl ī ās;]
7. [dīssĕ][cāmŭs] [ōmnĭvăgās] [fĭgūrās]
8. [nōs stŭdĭ][ōsī.]
9. [Lāētă] [tōtās] [nōscĕrĕ pūl][chrĭtūdō]
10. [māēstă] [fōrmēl][lās cŭpĭt īn][tĕrāptās]
11. [quās dĭ][rēmptās] [nēxĕrĕ dī][lĭgēntēr]
12. [hās spĕcĭ][ōsās.]
13. [Līmĭn][e ādvēn][tō sŭpĕrō] [nŏvō nūnc]
14. [quāēstĭ][ōnēs] [fēmĭnă dē] [lăbēllīs]
15. [ācrĭs] [āmīt][tō pĕtŭlāns] [rĕmōtās]
16. [īmpĕrĭ][ōsīs.]
17. [Ōrdĭ][nō cŏ][nātă pŏē][mă cērtē]
18. [“Tūte hĭ][ātum ē][līsum ădĭgīs”] [lŏcūtūs]
19. [Īllĕ] [“nōn ĕs] [ōptĭmă tū] [Cătūllūs]
20. [nūllăquĕ] [Nāsō.”]
21. [Crīmĭn][e ēxāc][tō pŏsĭta īn][sŏnēns vōx]
22. [clāūdĭ][tūr dūm] [plūmă lăbō][răt āēquē]
23. [cērĕ][ūs lĭ][quēscĭt ĕgo āt][quĕ sūm nōn]
24. [ūllăquĕ] [Nāsō.]
25. [Cērŭ][līs ĕt] [ūna ălĭa ā][lă dēxtrīs]
26. [pōnĭ][tūr; pēn][nās brĕvĭōr][ĕ lōngās]
27. [īnsĕ][quēntī] [Dāēdălĭcās] [lŏcāvī]
28. [stānt mănŭs] [ēt pēs.]
29. [Mōx mă][gīstră] [prōsĭlĭō] [schŏlārūm]
30. [dēdĭt][a īn tēc][tīs fŏlĭo ē][vŏlūtō.]
31. [Scrīptă] [cīstŭ][lā mĕă cōn][tĭnēbām;]
32. [sīc rĕnŏ][vāmŭr.]
33. [Ēvŏ][lūtāē] [plūmĭpĕdēs] [ĕt ālāē]
34. [pūlchrĭ][ūs cēr][tē vŏlĭtānt;] [cănōrēs]
35. [prōdĕ][ūnt ād] [līmĭnă vīr][gĭnālēs.]
36. [Sīc rĕcĭ][tāntŭr.]
37. [Cōnvŏ][lēmŭs] [ādvĕnĭā][mŭs ōmnēs!]
38. [Pāgĭ][nās nĕ][ōtĕrĭcās] [gĕrēntēs]
39. [fābŭ][lās ă][mōr rĕnŏvēt!] [Mĕlōdāē]
40. [dēnt ănĭ][mam ādflēnt!]
I am no Ovid
At that time in maidenly magnificence
under the harsh auspice of a teacher
while reciting, I unrolled Vergilian metrical
feet.
We move aside the tunes and the tongues
which we stole, the Melpomenes and Thalias;
we dissect shapes every which way
enthusiastically.
Happy beauty wants to recognize little molds,
well-suited to one another, but grieving wants
AT bind them together, broken apart, these forms,
brilliant, carefully.
At this time, arrived at a new, higher threshold,
a woman, I drop questions from sharp lips,
impudent, my questions removed by those in
power.
Having made the attempt, I set a poem in order
confidently- “you’ve elided the hiatus,” said
that man, “you, bestie, are no Catullus,
not any Ovid.”
My crime exacted, my soundless voice is
closed up, put in her place, while a soft quill
works equally, wax melts, and I? I am
not any Ovid.
With candles and right hands, one wing, and another
is put in place; I place long feathers with a shorter one
following, Daedalic. They stand, both hand and
foot.
Soon, a teacher, I leap forth, devoted, on the rooftops
of schools with a page unrolled.
I kept my writing in a little chest;
thus are we renewed.
Unfurled wings and feathered steps,
surely too lovely, flutter about; virgin
tunes spring forth toward doorways.
Thus are they recited.
Let us flock together, let us arrive, all
bearing counter-culture pages!
Love renew our stories! Melodies give and breathe
life!
under the harsh auspice of a teacher
while reciting, I unrolled Vergilian metrical
feet.
We move aside the tunes and the tongues
which we stole, the Melpomenes and Thalias;
we dissect shapes every which way
enthusiastically.
Happy beauty wants to recognize little molds,
well-suited to one another, but grieving wants
AT bind them together, broken apart, these forms,
brilliant, carefully.
At this time, arrived at a new, higher threshold,
a woman, I drop questions from sharp lips,
impudent, my questions removed by those in
power.
Having made the attempt, I set a poem in order
confidently- “you’ve elided the hiatus,” said
that man, “you, bestie, are no Catullus,
not any Ovid.”
My crime exacted, my soundless voice is
closed up, put in her place, while a soft quill
works equally, wax melts, and I? I am
not any Ovid.
With candles and right hands, one wing, and another
is put in place; I place long feathers with a shorter one
following, Daedalic. They stand, both hand and
foot.
Soon, a teacher, I leap forth, devoted, on the rooftops
of schools with a page unrolled.
I kept my writing in a little chest;
thus are we renewed.
Unfurled wings and feathered steps,
surely too lovely, flutter about; virgin
tunes spring forth toward doorways.
Thus are they recited.
Let us flock together, let us arrive, all
bearing counter-culture pages!
Love renew our stories! Melodies give and breathe
life!
As I said, I am no Ovid. Nulla Sum Naso was written using a meter or rhythmic pattern that Ovid has never been known for. I’ve found myself gravitating more and more toward this meter, which is named after she who should perhaps be the most famous ancient Greek poet: Sappho.
Catullus, however, did use Sapphics, and even translated some of Sappho’s poetry. I myself have only recently begun to read any Sappho, and I find it profoundly meaningful that her meter, her rhythm, her voice seemed to be calling to me years before I found her. 2,500 years too late to meet her in person, but still. I’m here, now, and that brings me to the reality of textual transmission and textual tradition.
The person who taught me to compose started me with Ovidian elegiacs, which makes sense, and if I had been in their position, I would have done the same. One of the reasons for this is that Ovid’s work is part of the traditionally standard Latin language curriculum, but, Sappho’s rhythmic emulators, like Catullus, tend to occupy a secondary position, and even so much as the name of Sulpicia, a woman and a contemporary of Ovid who wrote Latin poetry in the same rhythm as Ovid, has often been barely mentioned. While this has begun to change, women described and quoted by men are frequently given more room than the words written directly by women themselves.
We are too often characters in someone else’s story, rather than being the storyteller herself, narrating her own experience.
We will never know exactly how many voices have been lost for the sole reason that they were not deemed important enough to write down, and we may never even know their names, whether they were male, female, or nonbinary, whether they were trans or cisgender, whether they preferred the same sex, the opposite sex, both, or neither. We cannot know them.
Additionally, texts can only be sent into the future, so I can’t go back in time and give Sappho a poem, but, for you, dear audience, my next piece, 36 lines of Ovidian elegiacs, is half new composition and half a translation of Sappho 16, where she compares her beloved Anactoria to the infamous Helen of Troy.
Catullus, however, did use Sapphics, and even translated some of Sappho’s poetry. I myself have only recently begun to read any Sappho, and I find it profoundly meaningful that her meter, her rhythm, her voice seemed to be calling to me years before I found her. 2,500 years too late to meet her in person, but still. I’m here, now, and that brings me to the reality of textual transmission and textual tradition.
The person who taught me to compose started me with Ovidian elegiacs, which makes sense, and if I had been in their position, I would have done the same. One of the reasons for this is that Ovid’s work is part of the traditionally standard Latin language curriculum, but, Sappho’s rhythmic emulators, like Catullus, tend to occupy a secondary position, and even so much as the name of Sulpicia, a woman and a contemporary of Ovid who wrote Latin poetry in the same rhythm as Ovid, has often been barely mentioned. While this has begun to change, women described and quoted by men are frequently given more room than the words written directly by women themselves.
We are too often characters in someone else’s story, rather than being the storyteller herself, narrating her own experience.
We will never know exactly how many voices have been lost for the sole reason that they were not deemed important enough to write down, and we may never even know their names, whether they were male, female, or nonbinary, whether they were trans or cisgender, whether they preferred the same sex, the opposite sex, both, or neither. We cannot know them.
Additionally, texts can only be sent into the future, so I can’t go back in time and give Sappho a poem, but, for you, dear audience, my next piece, 36 lines of Ovidian elegiacs, is half new composition and half a translation of Sappho 16, where she compares her beloved Anactoria to the infamous Helen of Troy.
Ad Antiquitatem
- Pāginulās decorēs plēnāsque levis levitātis
- āētheriās mea res pōnit in ōrdine sic:
- prīmūm cōnvehit ōscula clāra nitēntia; dēīndē
- flāmmās īnscrīptās spīritibūs superīs.
- Cērātāē pāgēllāē stēllās cāēligenās mōx
- āssūrgēnt ālīs cōmpositīs calamō.
- Prīsca recēntēs āccipiēnt nūnc sāēcula vērsūs
- cōmplēxa āmplēxōs āēthere dēliciās.
- ārcāna ōbscūra īn foliīs stīllāre vidāntur
- sōmnia cēllīs īn prīstina pāciferīs.
- Ne ārdēscāntur flāmmīs ā sōlāribus āltīs
- pēndēntēs cēlsāē pāginulāē volitēnt
- āstra petēntēs plūmōsāē sūb sīdera nōctē
- lōngius ā pelagō nāvigerōque salō.
- Nē sūbmērsāē pērdāntūr flūctu ēminus īstāc
- īmbūtāē flētūs ūmidulāē minimē.
- Nāmque amor āētērnū refovēt cōnscrīpseram in ālīs
- quōs – āūrōra micāt! Pāginulāē celerēnt!
- “Āgmen equōrum aliī dīcūnt aliī peditātūs
- sēd nāvāle aliī Gāia in opāca aliā
- māgnoperē fōrmōsūm sēd quod id ēsse ego dīcō
- quīdām cōncupiāt.” Pāginulāē recinānt.
- “Ōmnīnō facere ēst cōgnōbiliōre leve ōmnī:
- Nām lōngē superāns fōrma hominēs Helenē
- dēsērtō prāēstānti ōmnēs viro adīvit arāndō
- āēquora Trōiānōs.” Āttigat āēquora nē
- Pāgina! “Fīliam orīginem anum īmmemor ēxagitātur
- flēxibilīs levitēr-“ Pāginulāē madidānt.
- “Dē mea Anāctoriā mēmēt nūnc cōmmemorāt hīc
- nōn stāntī.” Cava stāt sīcca lacūna patēns
- “Āspicere ēgrēssūs velim amōēnōs ātque nitōrēs
- fūlgēntēs ōrūm quam ārmaque mīlitiās
- Lȳdia pūgnātōrēs ārmātās peditēs.” Sūnt
- pērdita vērba. “Potīs nōn genuīsse hominī
- nōn ōrāre ēx īmprōvīsō pārticipāre-”
- Sāpphō dōnēt nōs, lītterulīs tacitīs.
NB Line 25-26: "arando/aequora" Cf. Ovid Amores 2.10.33-34
[Scansion]
- [Pāgĭnŭ][lās dĕcŏ][rēs plēn][āsquĕ lĕ][vīs lĕvĭ][tātĭs]
- [āēthĕrĭ][ās mĕă] [rēs] || [pōnĭt ĭn] [ōrdĭnĕ] [sīc:]
- [prīmūm] [cōnvĕhĭt] [ōscŭlă] [clāră nĭ][tēntĭă;] [dēīndĕ]
- [flāmmās] [īnscrīp][tās] || [spīrĭtĭ][būs sŭpĕ][rīs.]
- [Cērā][tāē pā][gēllāē] [stēllās] [cāēlĭgĕ][nās mōx]
- [āssūr][gēnt ā][līs] || [cōmpŏsĭ][tīs călă][mō.]
- [Prīscă rĕ][cēntēs] [āccĭpĭ][ēnt nūnc] [sāēcŭlă] [vērsūs]
- [cōmplēx][a āmplēx][ōs] || [āēthĕrĕ] [dēlĭcĭās.]
- [ārcān][a ōbscūr][a īn fŏlĭ][īs stīl][lārĕ vĭ][dāntŭr]
- [sōmnĭă] [cēllīs] [īn] || [prīstĭnă] [pācĭfĕ][rīs.]
- [Ne ārdēs][cāntūr] [flāmmīs] [ā sō][lārĭbŭs] [āltīs]
- [pēndēn][tēs cēl][sāē] || [pāgĭnŭ][lāē vŏlĭ][tēnt]
- [āstră pĕ][tēntēs] [plūmō][sāē sūb] [sīdĕră] [nōctĕ]
- [lōngĭŭs] [ā pĕlă][gō] || [nāvĭgĕ][rōquĕ să][lō.]
- [Nē sūb][mērsāē] [pērdān][tūr flūc][tu ēmĭnŭs] [īstāc]
- [īmbū][tāē flē][tūs] || [ūmĭdŭ][lāē mĭnĭ][mē.]
- [Nāmque ămŏr] [āētēr][nū rĕfŏ][vēt cōn][scrīpsĕram ĭn] [ālīs]
- [quōs – āū][rōră mĭ][cāt!] || [Pāgĭnŭ][lāē cĕlĕ][rēnt!]
- [“Āgmĕn ĕ][quōrum ălĭ][ī dī][cūnt ălĭ][ī pĕdĭ][tātūs]
- [sēd nā][vāle ălĭ][ī] || [Gāia ĭn ŏ][pāca ălĭ][ā]
- [māgnŏpĕ][rē fōr][mōsūm] [sēd quŏd ĭd] [ēsse ĕgŏ] [dīcō]
- [quīdām] [cōncŭpĭ][āt.”] || [Pāgĭnŭ][lāē rĕcĭ][nānt.]
- [“Ōmnī][nō făcĕ][re ēst cōg][nōbĭlĭ][ōrĕ lĕ][ve ōmnī:]
- [Nām lōn][gē sŭpĕ][rāns] || [fōrma hŏmĭ][nēs Hĕlĕ][nē]
- [dēsēr][tō prāēs][tānti ōm][nēs vĭro ă][dīvĭt ă][rāndō]
- [āēquŏră] [Trōiā][nōs.”] || [Āttĭgăt] [āēquŏră] [nē]
- [Pāgĭnă!] [“Fīlĭam ŏ][rīgĭnem ăn][um īmmĕmŏr] [ēxăgĭ][tātŭr]
- [flēxĭbĭ][līs lĕvĭ][tēr-“] || [Pāgĭnŭ][lāē mădĭ][dānt.]
- [“Dē mĕa Ă][nāctŏrĭ][ā mē][mēt nūnc] [cōmmĕmŏ][rāt hīc]
- [nōn stān][tī.” Căvă] [stāt] || [sīccă lă][cūnă pă][tēns]
- [“Āspĭcĕ][re ēgrēs][sūs vĕlim ă][mōēnōs] [ātquĕ nĭ][tōrēs]
- [fūlgēn][tēs ō][rūm] || [quam ārmăquĕ] [mīlĭtĭ][ās]
- [Lȳdĭă] [pūgnā][tōrēs] [ārmā][tās pĕdĭ][tēs.” Sūnt]
- [pērdĭtă] [vērbă. “Pŏ][tīs] || [nōn gĕnŭ][īsse hŏmĭ][nī]
- [nōn ō][rāre ēx] [īmprō][vīsō] [pārtĭcĭ][pārĕ-”]
- [Sāpphō] [dōnēt] [nōs,] || [līttĕrŭ][līs tăcĭ][tīs.]
To Antiquity
- My story positions my ethereal pages,
- elegant and full of light lightness, in order like so:
- first, it conveys bright, shining kisses; then
- passions inscribed in the highest breezes.
- Waxen little pages will soon rise to the heaven-born stars
- on wings that were composed with a pen.
- Ancient ages recent verses will now receive
- embracing and embraced, delicacies in the air.
- Secrets obscure inside folios seem to whisper,
- ancient dreams in peace-bearing bedrooms.
- Lest they be burned by the sun’s lofty flames,
- let the excellent floating pages flutter, full of feathers,
- seeking stars, beneath the constellations by night
- rather far from the sea and from the ship-bearing brine.
- Lest they be lost, submerged by a wave just out of reach that way,
- imbued of weeping, not even a little bit damp,
- for eternal love warms those which I had written on wings-
- Dawn sparkles! Hurry, little pages!
- “Some say that a line of horses, others a line of infantry
- but others a naval line is the most beautiful thing
- on any shadowed Earth, but I say that this thing
- is what someone loves.” The pages echo.
- “Altogether, to make this understandable to each person is easy
- for, far surpassing humans in beauty, Helen
- after deserting her husband, outstanding before all, went
- to the Trojans by sailing the sea.” Don’t let the paper
- touch the sea! “Forgetting her daughter and her old origin
- flexible, lightly, she is driven-” The pages are getting wet.
- “She reminds me of my Anactoria not standing here
- now.” Empty stands the dry hole, gaping.
- “I would rather behold her lovely step and the shining
- splendor of her face than Lydian arms and armed
- militias, fist-fighting footsoldiers.” The words!
- They’re lost. “It is not possible for someone to have produced
- not to pray from something improvised to take part-”
- Sappho, forgive us; the letters were silenced.
The theme for this conference is the Goddess at the Crossingplace. Trivia, as she was known to the Romans, encompassed many sets of 3, and her crossroads traditionally involved 3 pathways meeting together. Even this name has been reduced in our modern society, traditionally dominated by men, to a word for a pile of frivolous information, used to show off mastery rather than being considered of substantial value for learning. See also the derivatives “trivial”, “triviality”, and “trivialized”.
The term liminality, from the Latin word for threshold or doorway, comes to mind both for the three-way crossroads and for the arbitrary line we draw between important or useful information and so-called “trivia”. Arbitrary because what is not important to one person may be important to another.
My third and final piece tonight, at 16 lines of Sapphic stanzas, is inspired by liminality, and that locked gate that is this arbitrary line between important and not important, and also a particular trope from ancient Greek and Latin poetry, known as the paraclausitheron.
In this trope, the traditionally male poet stands outside a locked door and begs to be let inside, where his traditionally female lover is waiting. Now, part of the trope is that for some reason or another the feminine counterpart is making things difficult for the masculine, and again that feminine counterpart occupies the role of a secondary character within a narrative where the masculine holds the primary role.
But what happens if we tell a story in which a woman is demanding safe exit from the prison of someone else’s narrative? What if a woman comes to a locked gate and begs-no-commands that she be allowed to occupy the primary role in her own narrative?
And what if, when she’s through that gate, she destroys it, never to be locked again?
The term liminality, from the Latin word for threshold or doorway, comes to mind both for the three-way crossroads and for the arbitrary line we draw between important or useful information and so-called “trivia”. Arbitrary because what is not important to one person may be important to another.
My third and final piece tonight, at 16 lines of Sapphic stanzas, is inspired by liminality, and that locked gate that is this arbitrary line between important and not important, and also a particular trope from ancient Greek and Latin poetry, known as the paraclausitheron.
In this trope, the traditionally male poet stands outside a locked door and begs to be let inside, where his traditionally female lover is waiting. Now, part of the trope is that for some reason or another the feminine counterpart is making things difficult for the masculine, and again that feminine counterpart occupies the role of a secondary character within a narrative where the masculine holds the primary role.
But what happens if we tell a story in which a woman is demanding safe exit from the prison of someone else’s narrative? What if a woman comes to a locked gate and begs-no-commands that she be allowed to occupy the primary role in her own narrative?
And what if, when she’s through that gate, she destroys it, never to be locked again?
Clavis Apta
- Clāvis āpta clāūdere pōssit ūllās
- dēīnde tām rēclūdere quām dolōsās
- iānuās āūt clāva sonāns colūmnās
- pērcutiēt mōx.
- Pōrta dēbētūr patefācta nōbīs
- sēd patēntēr līmina cōnstitērūnt
- iām serīs cōnclūsa silēntque fīxīs
- ōmnibus āptīs.
- Mūrus ānnōs ōppositōs vetūstōs
- āt diū fīrmōs stetit. Āntra apērtānt
- āmovēntēs sāxa solūta pāssū
- sēnsibilī nūnc.
- Cūstos ōstiōrum adigō sodālēs
- pēr novēlla līmina cōncitāntēs;
- āmpliōr via āēdificābitūr sīc:
- ērudiām tē.
[Scansion]
[Clāvĭs] [āptă] [clāūdĕrĕ pōs][sĭt ūllās]
[dēīndĕ] [tām rēc][lūdĕrĕ quām] [dŏlōsās]
[iānŭ][ās āūt] [clāvă sŏnāns] [cŏlūmnās]
[pērcŭtĭ][ēt mōx.]
[Pōrtă] [dēbē][tūr pătĕfāc][tă nōbīs]
[sēd pă][tēntēr] [līmĭnă cōn][stĭtērūnt]
[iām sĕ][rīs cōn][clūsă sĭlēnt][quĕ fīxīs]
[ōmnĭbŭs] [āptīs.]
[Mūrŭs] [ānnōs] [ōppŏsĭtōs] [vĕtūstōs]
[āt dĭ][ū fīr][mōs stĕtĭt. Ān][tra ăpērtānt]
[āmŏ][vēntēs] [sāxă sŏlū][tă pāssū]
[sēnsĭbĭ][lī nūnc.]
[Cūstŏs] [ōstĭ][ōrum ădĭgō] [sŏdālēs]
[pēr nŏ][vēllă] [līmĭnă cōn][cĭtāntēs;]
[āmplĭ][ōr vĭ][a āēdĭfĭcā][bĭtūr sīc:]
[ērŭdĭ][ām tē.]
[Clāvĭs] [āptă] [clāūdĕrĕ pōs][sĭt ūllās]
[dēīndĕ] [tām rēc][lūdĕrĕ quām] [dŏlōsās]
[iānŭ][ās āūt] [clāvă sŏnāns] [cŏlūmnās]
[pērcŭtĭ][ēt mōx.]
[Pōrtă] [dēbē][tūr pătĕfāc][tă nōbīs]
[sēd pă][tēntēr] [līmĭnă cōn][stĭtērūnt]
[iām sĕ][rīs cōn][clūsă sĭlēnt][quĕ fīxīs]
[ōmnĭbŭs] [āptīs.]
[Mūrŭs] [ānnōs] [ōppŏsĭtōs] [vĕtūstōs]
[āt dĭ][ū fīr][mōs stĕtĭt. Ān][tra ăpērtānt]
[āmŏ][vēntēs] [sāxă sŏlū][tă pāssū]
[sēnsĭbĭ][lī nūnc.]
[Cūstŏs] [ōstĭ][ōrum ădĭgō] [sŏdālēs]
[pēr nŏ][vēllă] [līmĭnă cōn][cĭtāntēs;]
[āmplĭ][ōr vĭ][a āēdĭfĭcā][bĭtūr sīc:]
[ērŭdĭ][ām tē.]
The Appropriate Key
The appropriate key can close any
tricky doors as much as it can open them,
but a cudgel, resounding, will
strike the columns soon.
An open door is owed to us,
but openly the thresholds stand firm,
already locked with bars, and silent, having closed,
all things bound together.
A wall stood for a long time, for years ancient, opposed,
and fortified; those removing loosened stones
reveal caves with a footstep
now visible.
As a guard of doorways, I drive comrades
rushing headlong through new little thresholds;
a wider road will be constructed in this way:
Let me teach you.
tricky doors as much as it can open them,
but a cudgel, resounding, will
strike the columns soon.
An open door is owed to us,
but openly the thresholds stand firm,
already locked with bars, and silent, having closed,
all things bound together.
A wall stood for a long time, for years ancient, opposed,
and fortified; those removing loosened stones
reveal caves with a footstep
now visible.
As a guard of doorways, I drive comrades
rushing headlong through new little thresholds;
a wider road will be constructed in this way:
Let me teach you.
Thank you. My name is Bethany Abelseth, my pronouns are she/her, and you can find more of my poetry on my website, bethanyabelseth.com.
