It’s a cliché, but England really is green, and I was amazed at the exuberance of the plants and wild flowers growing on untended verges. There’s a tiny blue cornflower tucked in the among the yellow and red here, and I couldn’t believe how truly blue it was. Here in Spain, they seem to come in a shade of over-washed lilac.
Still, it was a Spanish wayside that inspired this vignette:
Poppy-petal butterflies ride
at anchor on a charlock sea,
while in the depths below
ox-eyed monsters lurk.
I always check the stats page to see what people are searching for that leads them to the blog.
I already commented in pictures of pigs that I get a lot of visitors looking for “pig slaughter” – some of whom I hope go away satisfied that they’ve seen butchered swine on several pages, although, as yet, I’ve not actually been present at a matanza. (I do love the fact that Spanish doesn’t seem to distinguish between the idea of “slaughter” when it applies to approved animal killing for food, and “massacre” when applied to B-movie horror, e.g. La Matanza de Texas.)
Note that I’ve not been an eye-witness, but I have heard: there has to be a pun about “pigs’ laughter” and “squealing”, but I’m leaving that for another day.
Recently, though, there have been more searches for “science and technology poems”, and I think I am failing those potential readers. So I’d better do something about it (hence the post title).
Continue reading “self-fulfilling prophesies”
The Spanish don’t have “one last drink” – for them, it’s always “la penúltima”.
But the gatitos in the picture appear to have sucked all the colour from their mother and are now almost as large as she is. I’ve just seen her reject one of them despite his plaintive mewling, so maybe she’s finally decided to call last orders.
(No, it’s not a very good photo, but you wouldn’t have wanted me to disturb them, would you?)
Yesterday, I signed off an email to a colleague with the Spanish phrase que te sea leve. It seemed appropriate, knowing that the summer is upon us, compañeros de trabajo are off on holiday and teams that are stretched at the best of times are now at snapping point.
I like the phrase, but had no idea of its derivation.
Fortunately, despite the absence of colleagues, there is usually time for an exchange of ideas and information, and he pointed out that this is more or less what the Romans put on the tombstones of loved ones:
Sic tibi terra levis. ~ Let the earth lie light upon you.
What a lovely phrase.
Still, that’s all rather incidental to this post, which was prompted by the actual physical act of typing que te sea leve, rather than by its meaning.
Continue reading “automatic writing”
I have had plenty of trouble with my own surname over the years, so I don’t have a lot to say about this.
But I guess it does make me think of the (mostly apocryphal) stories of brand names that don’t travel between languages and cultures.
I wonder if “Mr Perdedor” drives a Chevrolet Nova when he isn’t driving his truck. (They say they didn’t sell well in países hispanohablantes as no one wanted un coche que no va.)
don't confuse the narrator 