Tuesday, November 15, 2016


Italian and English

Byron (1788-1824), "Beppo. A Venetian Story," stanza XLIV:
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.

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