As a Young Lady, I took several years of Latin. Translation was my favorite homework, I think because I was damn bad at it. My translations would come out pleasingly strange, the way, I felt, anything translated from Latin ought to be. Mysterious, and remote, and seeming to speak of an inaccessible Past. Then I’d hand in my work- and it would turn out to be wrong.
Anyway, for today’s post, I have taken 5 lines of Ovid and translated them as madly and incorrectly as possible. The lines are the first 5 of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book III; for a decent translation, you could Click Here.