OK, boys and girls, ready or not, it's time for more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, revise the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
Renaissance madrigal composer Francis Pilkington brings us this week's song, "Rest, Sweet Nymphs" (scroll down a bit for lyrics) (listen to the Luminatus Vocal Ensemble perform the song here). Enjoy.
Hyperion's Curls
Lying in bed, resting and thickened
with bright eyes, dream of a star to attract.
Order love, read the book
(as have Laura, Lolita, Lori, Lola).
I was afraid of the bed, and sleep less.
Static.
This is the delight of girls and beautiful garden, dream holiday heaven and earth.
No, no, no, no less than legitimate commercial needs of beloved beloved night
(as have Laura, Lolita, Lori, Lola).
Basis snout.
Closed messenger, I'm going upstream.
After small Connecticut female child,
"Good night," then I walked away
to the heart of FIFA.
Also, your friends and I will never complain
(as have Laura, Lolita, Lori, Lola).
Hyperion's curls, personal freedom, private Techno.
This made me cry, sleep.
.
