[Bodington-developers] Silly Season

[Jon M. <jo...@te...>]

Another posting to see what gets through but this time a least vaguely=20
amusing. Various famous poetry translated into foreign languages and=20
back again by an on-line translation service.

Famous poem by Eliz. Barret Browning translated to Dutch and back;

How do I love tea? The manners let me count. I love tea to the depth and=20
the breadth and altitude my soul can reach, when feeling face for the=20
ends of be and the ideal grace. I love tea at the level of quietest need=20
each day, the sun and candle light.

Worsworth english-polish-english:

I only wandered I eat a cloud
that floated in valleys and high mounts of o'er,
when of a time I saw a multitude, host of,
of daffodils the golden ones,
to the side of the lake,
below of the trees,
vibrating and dancing in the breeze.

Children's rhyme english-korean-english

The maul it both hairs will be white
with the eye and there was a lamb.
The store and maul Riga it went,
the young German silver it was positive to where.
In order to train the 1st day toward rule
he followed her,
In order to see the lamb in the school
it the children under laughing, glow.

Another via japanese

A little the peek of Bo it loses her sheep in order to find those,
does not know somewhere.
If those are shot, the servant, their tails are shaken with those rear.

Another tear jerker from Barrett Browning (via Dutch)

To rinse, My dog
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Yet, my rather sport-loving friend,
Few is't to such an end
that I thy price scarcity!
Other dogs can be thy edelen
Haply in these hanging down ears,
And this gleaming fairness.
But of tea it will be said,
This dog which becomes beside unweary
bed day and a night having regard to
having regard to within a curtained space,
Where no sunbeam the mistroostigheid slow down
for sick and dark.
Rozen, collected for a mud,
In that chamber apace died,
Resigning the jet and of wind.
This dog only, waited,
Wetend dat wanneer het licht is gegaan
de Liefde voor het glanzen blijft.


Some Kipling via Swedish

You can speak ogin and beers,
when you are it inkvarterade the cash cabinet out 'ere,
An is transfered you to encentmynt-slagsm=E5l an Aldershot it;
But, when it weak will take,
will you do your work bevattnar on,
An will you the presentiment bloomink=E4ngorna of 'im that has got it.
Now in Injias sunny clime,
There used to at in pays my time
A-servin of 'your the May head queen,
Very blackfaced they the crew
the most delicate mane that I knew
where our direction intended alder bhisti, Gunga noises.
He was=94 noises! Noises! Noises!
You loaf in klumpa itself o brick dusts, Gunga noises!
Hi! smooth hitherao!
Bevattna, get it! Panee lao!


The Dutch really dig Blake;

And did those feet in old time
on green the mounts of United Kingdom run?
And it was saint seen Lam of
god on the pleasant pastures of United Kingdom?
And divine glanste
Countenance ahead on our hillocks concerned?
And was Jerusalem builded here
under these dark satanic mills?
Me brings my arc of burning gold!
Me brings my arrows of wish!
Me brings my spear! O clouds, open!
Me brings my blokkenwagen of fire!


Lear via Dutch

They went to overseas in a screen, they,
In a screen they went to overseas:
In spite of all could say their friends,
On the winter morn, for a tempestuous day,
In a screen they went to overseas!
And when the screen and round turned themselves,
And each shouted one, `YOU all will be drowned!
They called aloud, `Our screen is not large,
But we do not give a button! we do not give fig.!
In a screen we will go to overseas!
Far and weinigen, far and weinigen,
To be the country where live Jumblies;


Keats via French

Ram Without Merci of beautiful that a poetry by John Keats

Amp=E8reheure, what can upset the thee, wight miserable,
Only and p=E2lement strolling;
The carex is wither' D of the lake,
And bird does not sing.
Amp=E8reheure, what can upset the thee, wight miserable,
If bl=E8me and thus trouble-begone?
The attic of the squirrel is full,
And the made harvest.
I see a lily on the face thy,
With the moist anguish dew and of fever;
And on the cheek thy a withereth of obliteration
of pink quickly too.

Byron via Dutch

Thus, we will let go no longer
roam this way in the night,
Nevertheless the heart is still such as loving,
And the maan is still clear.
For the sword outwears its sleeve,
And the soul draws the udder from,
And the hearth must pause to breathe,
And love himself has rest.
Although the night for loving was made,
And the day return too quick,
But nevertheless we will no longer roam by
light of the maan to go.

Francis Scott Key's Poem which became a famous anthem (but not in this=20
version via Korean)

Oh! The something to say you is a possibility of seeing, In compliance=20
with the light which dawn reaches,
It is like this and haughtily what it calls in the sound where we are=20
big last in the light or the flag of dusk;
The battle which is dangerous it will yell and to lead the stripes which=20
who is wide and the star which dawns,
O'er, the rampart which we see,

Never knew the Dutch were so keen on Tea!.....

I will tea compare at the day of the summer?
Thou more nicely and more moderate art.
Harsh winds shake the darling buds of May,
And the hiring of the summer hath already too short date.
Ever too is called the eye of sky gleams,
And its gouden darkened teint is frequently;
And each market of honest ever falls,
Accidentally, or the changing not cut cursus of the nature.
But thy eternal summer slowly disappear
nor loss will have ow'st of that honest thou;
Nor death thou the most wand'rest in its shade will show off,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
Subject to people can breathe or the eyes can see,
This way long living gives this, and this living to tea.

Another famous sonnet with a uniquely Dutch flavour;

O thou, my beautiful boy, that in thy power
of seizure Time of Dost fickle glass is fickle hour;
WHO hast by decreasing grown, and in this show'st
Thy lovers who, as thy sweet zelfgrow'st destroy.
As nature, sovereign maitresse concerning wrack,
Since thou most the goest further, still tea back will pick,
She keeps tea to this aim, that its skill
the schande of May Time, and wretched minutes deads.
But nevertheless apprehension its, O thou minion of its pleasure!
But they can hold its treasure not still, to keep.
Its control, although slowing down, answered must be,
And its quietus must return tea.

Some verses from Poe as interpreted via Japanese

Although one time midnight it is lonesome, I am weak, one presently=20
considering,
while becoming fatigued, the knowledge which is forgotten many being=20
queer, being old-fashioned, in the capacity whose
curiosity is strong, while I nod, dozing almost, hitting suddenly
there came, hits calmly hit with the door of my room.
=93=93The Tis visitor, =93as for me the [bu] and it was, =93just this hit=
s with=20
the door
of my room, and what is many. =93

A Lear Limerick via French

There was an old man in a tree,
Who was terribly reamed by a bee;
When they said, 'Bourdonne it?'
It answered, 'Yes, it!'
'It is rough regular of a bee!'

Steven Foster is victim to the Dutch obsession with Tea again...

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
The sterrelicht and dewdrops wait for tea;
Sounds of the harsh world which is heard in the day,
Lull'd by the maanlicht have gone already pass'd!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List whereas I pursue tea with gentle melody;
The care of busy throng of living has gone.


While away many hours do the same thing and let me see the best ones.

Jon