De Uil van VrijMiBo
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise,
Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid,
Revered and mighty; from his awful head
Whom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour dressed,
Golden, all radiant! wonder strange possessed
The everlasting Gods that Shape to see,
Shaking a javelin keen, impetuously
Rush from the crest of Aegis-bearing Jove;
Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move
Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed;
Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide;
And, lifted from its depths, the sea swelled high
In purple billows, the tide suddenly
Stood still, and great Hyperion's son long time
Checked his swift steeds, till, where she stood sublime,
Pallas from her immortal shoulders threw
The arms divine; wise Jove rejoiced to view.
Child of the Aegis-bearer, hail to thee,
Nor thine nor others' praise shall unremembered be.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.
Keizerlijke VrijMiBo
Spare me the Roman wars, and those
Who battled on in myth, when prose
Extends to suit these topics better
Than odes in their mellifluous meter.
Maecenas, think on this awhile:
Strong themes are suited to your style
Like dragging tyrants by their necks.
While my sweet Muse would sing of sex,
Of my fair lady, Licymnia
Who fondly hopes her heart will be a
Faithful devotee of mine
With eyes as shimmering as wine.
See how she glories at the chance
To show her prowess in the dance.
Though lightly clad, she's not the least
Shy of display at Diane's feast.
Tell me, Maecenas, wouldn't you
Abjure all wealth, and treasure too,
If Licymnia would choose to spare
One strand of her luxuriant hair?
Even if this flirtatious miss
Denies you the favor of one kiss
To disconcert you, makes you feel it,
She won't accept your kiss; she'll steal it!
Prettig weekend. And be nice.
