Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Italian and English
Byron (1788-1824), "Beppo. A Venetian Story," stanza XLIV:
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I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,
And sounds as if it should be writ on satin,
With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,
And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in,
That not a single accent seems uncouth,
Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural
Which we're oblig'd to hiss and spit and sputter all.
