• @BabyVi
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    English
    39 months ago

    I searched two differing pdf english translations for different wordings of the quote and couldn’t find it. I was kinda hoping someone might be able to cite the specific page as I wanna read the rest of the context if there’s any to be found.

    • @[email protected]
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      fedilink
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      9 months ago

      Edit: lol I found this response to the OG tumblr post calling it out as incorrect: https://sapropel.tumblr.com/post/611062475438292992/okay-so-i-was-very-smitten-by-this-little-poem-so

      Excerpt:

      OKAY SO I was very smitten by this little poem so I looked it up (it was not easy to find this poem). Turns out that al-Harizi DIDN’T write this poem (or at least in Tahkemoni he claims this).

      In Tahkemoni, al-Harizi claimed that a Babylonian had written this poem, and that the poem was perverse and disgusting. The exact details vary from translation to translation. One translation (by David Simha Segal) attempts to portray the disgust of al-Harizi and maintain a rhyme scheme:

      “An Adinite jackass of singular sensibility penned the following imbecility: ‘Had Moses seen my neighbour’s cheeks / none other can surpass / he had writ not in his Torah / Do not covet thy neighbour’s ass.’ In a rage, I seized this miscreant’s pen and … berated him and excommunicated him” (402-403).

      ——

      My original comment:

      If it’s any consolation I’ve searched a PDF for different key words as well and can’t seem to find it. Shame because I really am amused at some of the writing I found. Very eloquent and sometimes erotic in an old-timey way. Props to the translator too.

      I liked this passage:

      Dotard Resolve mutters and mumbles; Resolution, halting, stumbles while, in my groin, Desire rumbles. Sin and Lust join hands, their nomad bands invade my lands, they strike at my belly, they pierce my flanks, Lust’s arrows stream heartward, they overflow my banks. Passion fires my gate, I gasp, I choke; my innards flame, my eyes smoke; Time puts forth his hand and robs me of my cloak. My grain turns chaff, my wheat, stubble; the castle of my youth turns rubble; my dream of endless gain, a bubble.