Thursday, 6 March 2014

Sonnet CXXIV

Here is a sonnet by Petrarch, as translated by Macgregor:

That ever-painful, ever-honour'd day
So left her living image on my heart
Beyond or lover's wit or poet's art,
That oft to it will doting memory stray.
A gentle pity softening her bright mien,
Her sorrow there so sweet and sad was heard,
Doubt in the gazer's bosom almost stirr'd
Goddess or mortal, which made heaven serene.
Fine gold her hair, her face as sunlit snow,
Her brows and lashes jet, twin stars her eyne,
Whence the young archer oft took fatal aim;
Each loving lip—whence, utterance sweet and low
Her pent grief found—a rose which rare pearls line,
Her tears of crystal and her sighs of flame.

The way in which the girl is described in this reminded me of something . . .

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Dingoes Ate My Baby!

Poor neglected blog. Here is a random morbid post to cheer you up.

"A Dingo Ate My Baby!"

We've all heard this quoted. I never knew the origins of the quote until today, however. It is a phrase attributed both to the mother of a real Australian baby who was (controversially) taken and killed by dingo's in this famous case (it was 1980, 7 years before I was born. Can you fault me for not knowing?), and to Meryl Streep who acted the role of that mother in 1988's Cry in the Dark. References have also been made in Seinfeld, Frasier, Buffy, and Supernatural

The more you know.

Now here are pictures of Dingo's doing more civilized things:

Also on the subject of dogs and civilization: