On the 10th of July AD 138 the Roman Emperor Hadrian was on his deathbed. He apparently spent his last hours composing a piece of poetry that has been described as 'defying translation.' It is only nineteen words in Latin and it is addressed to his own soul as he prepares to part company with it. Not exactly cheery stuff but bear with me. It begins;
"Animula, vagula, blandula," you may have heard of it.
I found a website that lists 43 separate translations of those words. Or perhaps 43 separate attempts to translate those words would be a fair comment. I even found one in an old brochure from the Yorkshire Museum. That's how I originally got to know about it. Unfortunately it does not cite the translator. It goes like this (and it takes more than nineteen words in English to do it justice.)
"Little tender wand'ring soul,
Body's guest and comrade thou,
To what bourne, all bare and pale,
Wilt thou be a'faring now,
All the merry jest and play,
Thou so lovest put away?"
I've always liked the second line. In a funny kind of way those nineteen words are as impressive as the stone wall he commissioned. And just like the wall they still have the power to make you stop and think, don't they?
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