Day 11: Translate a poem. It could be from one language, voice or time period to another, or in some other way. No rules!
Here is the real first stanza of John Donne’s “The Flea:”
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck’d me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper’d swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.
And here’s John Donne’s “The Flea” written in laymen’s terms:
Consider this flea
As little as what you won’t give to me;
he bit me first, and now he bites you,
and our blood is united within it
But you have to know that meshing isn’t
wicked, disgraceful or unchaste;
it’s just pleasure before we get serious,
inflamed satisfaction almost as if we did the deed;
but, I know, we “wouldn’t”