Thursday, May 3, 2012

Carmina Burana: The Lament Of The Cooked Swan


The cloud reminded me of a plucked bird.  Then the idea came to me to roast it.  Which reminded me of the funny-grotesque-tragic poem from the medieval manuscript, set so famously to music by Carl Orff.

Olim lacus colueram
olim pulcher extiteram
dum cygnus ego fueram
miser! miser!
modo niger
et ustus fortiter!

Once I lived on a lake
Once I was beautiful
When I was a Swan
Woe is me!
Now I'm burned black
roasting fiercely!

Girat, regirat garcifer
me rogus urit fortiter
propinat me nunc dapifer
(Repeat chorus)

The servant turns the spit
roasting me in the fire
Now the steward serves me up
(Repeat chorus)

Nunc in scutella iaceo,
et volitare nequeo
dentes frendentes video
(Repeat chorus)

Now I lie on a plate,
no longer able to fly
Now I see gnashing teeth
(Repeat chorus)

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