Thursday, 12 April 2012

NaPoWriMo Poem Twelve: Ordet Soy

Frodo sure knows Gollum's funky:
taught his mouse a lively tune!
We berated fire-truckers!
I'm licked-out and highly-toned!
Dinner's down the bin - this weeder
was outmoded! Stringy shite!
All I mentioned was the Whedons.
Whoa, that Santa's frugal, right?

Sights on schlongs, a million long men
tease a goose, the gadgies melt
butter, mmm - but stir no felt
moose - a weirder farter, phoning
Dan, the grosser, warty young'un.
Anus fundies fund Zeus-seeing:
War on Holness! Why's he ringing?
Mischa's signing Joe's balloon.
Jawa rock, no rhyming sealer
sigh, nine toffs? Damn! Merde! Gerunds!

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Today's NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a 'homophonic translation' - basically, to translate a poem in a foreign language into English by changing each word into an English word it sounds like. So, here's two verses of Schiller's 'Ode to Joy' translated thus. I stopped after two because, really, where can you go when you've been reduced to swearing at gerunds?


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