bs taught me this today
agathos_e_on
Latin is a dead language,
As dead as dead can be.
First it killed the Romans,
And now it's killing me!

I KNOW, RIGHT? 

yes you can
agathos_e_on
come and  spread your arms / if you really need a hug.

kate bush is my heroin(e)
agathos_e_on

i know i would get tired of it eventually...
agathos_e_on
... but i wish i could just translate things all the time.  there is no better way to get familiar with a piece of writing than to labor intensively over each word.

ovid's metamorphoses, salmacis & hermaphroditus.  the nymph salmacis propositions the young hermaphroditus, and he is confused:

"a blush marked the face of the boy; he did not know, indeed, what love is. but also it suited him to have blushed: this color belongs to apples hanging from a sunny tree, or dyed ivory, or the blushing moon under the radiance, when bronze cymbals resound in vain."

starry eyes
agathos_e_on
today i went to the faulkner county public library and interviewed jasmine for my grad school application.  thanks, jasmine!!  it was a whole new world, and it was amazing!  i forgot how fun it is to be in a new library.  it was big & bright & beautiful and i also remembered how happy i am to be going to library school.  i want to be in a library all day and do new and exciting things and help people, even if they just want to surf myspace.  but if people jerk off, they're out of my library.  for realz.

lyrics
agathos_e_on

cate blanchett as bob dylan
agathos_e_on





lee & nancy
agathos_e_on
Young woman share your fire with me
My heart is cold, my soul is free
I am a stranger in your land
A wandering man, call me sand

Oh sir my fire is very small
It will not warm thy heart at all
But thee may take me by the hand
Hold me and I'll call thee sand

Young woman share your fire with me
My heart is cold, my soul is free
I am a stranger in your land
A wandering man, call me sand

At night when stars light up the sky
Oh sir I dream my fire is high
Oh taste these lips sir if you can
Wandering man, I call thee sand

Oh sir my fire is burning high
If it should stop sir I would die
A shooting star has crossed my land
Wandering man...

...Young woman shared her fire with me
Now warms herself with memory
I was a stranger in her land
A wandering man, she called me sand

He was a stranger in my land
A wandering man

She called me sand

the first piece of literature that has moved me since england
agathos_e_on

i think this is me, a lot of the time
agathos_e_on

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