A fleeting dash of ego

"Donc, mot...?"

Good evening, everyone.

Homework assigned to us for French V on Tuesday was a French analysis of Guilliame Apollinaire's Le Pont Mirabeau, a simply yet aesthetically beautiful poem about...well, that's up to interpretation. Doing poems is enjoyable, because not only do I love poems, but sometimes, it's a poem I know by heart, like this time. Thus, the work was relatively easy for me.

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Les mains dans les mains restons face à face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des éternels regards l'onde si lasse

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'Espérance est violente

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Passent les jours et passent les semaines
Ni temps passait
Ni les amours reviennent
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

"Le Pont Mirabeau"
Apollinaire, Alcools (1912)

French poetry's not everyone's taste. It tries a little too hard to be profound sometimes, but I find that Apollinaire does a good job making sure that the interpretation works literally as well as symbolically.

For an English translation, see Sasha's page. I do believe, however, that poetry was not meant to be altered, changed, or translated in any shape or form. You want to read Mongolian poetry? Learn Mongolian. The concept of poetry was created not for just the meaning (which can also be undesirably altered during translation) but also the aesthetics of the words and phrases themselves.

If you want to hear the song, the one that's NOT by the Pogues, check out Sophie Auster. It's quirky, but it's definitely pretty.

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"If my penis were as big as my ego, I'd be King Kong."

- Dylan JJ

Thanks for the insight, Dylan.

So the uh, Physics midterm started today. First problem and I already skipped over it. Over at Sasha's house I began to calculate my grade if I say...uh, well forgot about the rest of the problems. When you start counting your score before you even finish the test, you know you're going to fail. Fail hard, too.

It seems like such a simple algebra problem, too, that I'm actually beginning to doubt myself. I used to have a pretty big ego when it came to being logical, but I figured that I'm not all that. Besides, that ego was all formulated. It wasn't ever really there; it started to fool the teachers into thinking that I was actually working, but I guess I let the little lie grow a little uhm, big. I'm not actually a member of the smart people crew. Haha. Member. Get it? MEMBER. Tee hee.

Whatever. My ego could use a beating.

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It's always fun getting into philosophical debates over trivial matters. That's how I spent my afternoon though, debating over cappuccino and 5-layer chocolate things and sporadic internet at Juna's. Nothing too hardcore today, though, just the usual relative good and bad that makes our world worth living in, and that perhaps human intelligence will outlive its usefulness one day, where one day civilization will stagnate because we have nowhere to turn.

Sasha and I pretty much rock.