- If allowed, there is no newspaper in the heart.
- Same with the police, / almost got guts.
- The fate of friends, / Matt says, perchance, / is rain`, love, / hats.
- Of storks, today there are none, I heard.
- My love makes this city famous.
- The toasts are untamed, we say nothing.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
New lines from the homophonic telephone
Today, I took my first stab at translating Martial, a Roman poet who specialized in snarky epigrams, a sort of a 2nd century Daniel Tosh. Hi...