Amayelidi / ꭰꮉᏸꮅꮧ / îles / Islands / +translations

ᏂᎦᏛ ᎢᏧᎳ ᎠᎴᏂᏙᎭᏎ ᎠᎹᏰᎵᏗ ᎾᎿ, ᎠᏎᏃ ᎢᎦᏛ ᎠᎹᏰᎵ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᎤᏔᏂᏗ ᏏᏅ ᏐᎢ. ᎡᏆ-ᎡᎶᎯ ᎾᏍᏋ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᎠᎹᏰᎵ. ᏂᎦᏛ ᎠᏆᏤᎵ ᎠᎵᏍᏓᏴᏗ ᎠᎴ ᏐᎢ ᎢᏳᏍᏗᏗ Ꮎ ᎢᏧᎳ ᎤᏚᎳᏓᏎ ᏅᎳᏎ ᎠᎭᏂ ᏂᏛᎴᏅᏓ, ᎠᎴ ᎠᏆᏤᎵ ᎤᏲᏨᎯ ᎡᏙᏓᏎ ᎠᎭᏂ. ᎯᎠ ᎭᎾᏂ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᎠᏆᏤᎵ ᎤᏩᏌ ᎣᏪᏅᏒ. ᎢᏧᎳ ᎠᏎ ᎠᏁᎸᏙᏗ ᎠᏍᏆᏂᎪᏙᏗ ᎾᏍᎩᏁ ᎤᏓᏅᎦᎸᏓ ᎠᎴ ᎠᏓᏍᏕᎸᏗ ᎾᏍᎩᏁ.

We all live on islands, but some islands are bigger than others. The earth is an island, too. All our food and other things we need come from here, and our trash stays here. This is our only home. We must try to keep it clean and protect it.

Nous vivons tous sur des îles, mais certaines sont plus grandes que d'autres. La terre est aussi une île. Toute notre nourriture et les autres choses dont nous avons besoin viennent d'ici, et nos déchets restent ici. Ceci est notre seule maison. Nous devons essayer de le garder propre et de le protéger.

Todos vivimos en islas, pero algunas islas son más grandes que otras. La tierra también es una isla. Toda nuestra comida y otras cosas que necesitamos provienen de aquí, y nuestra basura se queda aquí. Este es nuestro único hogar. Debemos tratar de mantenerlo limpio y protegerlo.

我们都生活在岛屿上，但有些岛屿比其他岛屿更大。 地球也是一个岛屿。 我们所需的所有食物和其他东西都来自这里，我们的垃圾留在这里。 这是我们唯一的家。 我们必须尽量保持清洁并保护它。

हम सभी द्वीपों पर रहते हैं, लेकिन कुछ द्वीप दूसरों की तुलना में बड़े हैं। पृथ्वी भी एक द्वीप है। हमारे सभी भोजन और अन्य चीजें जो हमें यहां से आती हैं, और हमारा कचरा यहां रहता है। यह हमारा एकमात्र घर है। हमें इसे स्वच्छ रखने और इसकी रक्षा करने की कोशिश करनी चाहिए।

كلنا نعيش في جزر ، لكن بعض الجزر أكبر من غيرها. الأرض جزيرة أيضًا. جميع طعامنا والأشياء الأخرى التي نحتاجها تأتي من هنا ، وتبقى القمامة لدينا هنا. هذا هو بيتنا الوحيد. يجب أن نحاول الحفاظ عليه نظيفًا وحمايته.

כולנו חיים על איים, אך איים מסוימים גדולים מאחרים. גם האדמה היא אי. מכאן כל האוכל ודברים אחרים שאנו זקוקים להם, והאשפה שלנו נשארת כאן. זה הבית היחיד שלנו. עלינו לנסות לשמור עליו נקי ולהגן עליו.

Ni ĉiuj loĝas sur insuloj, sed iuj insuloj estas pli grandaj ol aliaj. Ankaŭ la tero estas insulo. Ĉiuj niaj manĝaĵoj kaj aliaj aĵoj, kiujn ni bezonas, venas de ĉi tie, kaj nia rubo restas ĉi tie. Ĉi tiu estas nia sola hejmo. Ni devas provi konservi ĝin pura kaj protekti ĝin.

I hereby place this simple little text into the public domain, along with its accompanying image. Please feel free to translate it into your own language, and to use it freely.

Faces Unbidden / Des visages non invités

Faces unbidden spring from the shadows,
what message have they to tell?
Come they from a long-lost heaven,
or fróm some ánguished hell?

Des visages non invités surgissent de l'ombre,
quel message ont-ils à dire?
Est-ce qu'ils viennent d'un paradis longtemps perdu,
ou d'un enfer angoissé?

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

Playing "House" with Ginny (Memoir)

When I was six, I was given cowboy boots for my birthday. I had a strong interest in cowboy boots, and in everything else cowboy. I admired the new boots greatly. Apparently one of the neighbor girls, Ginny Bailey, also admired them. So much so, in fact, that she seduced me into playing "house" with her in the Cornell family's playhouse, a playhouse no longer used for its original purpose, since the Cornell girls were now all young adults.

I don't know how it is now, but in those days without electronic devices, little boys usually played "war," or "bombs over Tokyo," or attached toy soldiers to handkerchief parachutes and tossed them into the air. Little girls, on the other hand, played with dolls or, especially if they could snag a boy to play it with them, played "house."

Now, playing "house" frequently tended to have sexual overtones. In fact, it was often similar to playing "doctor," which I believe I had also played, when "war" was not available.

Anyway, Ginny persuaded me to go into the disused playhouse with her, which was a very private place. Ginny laid back on some kind of bench or something, and, without further ado, pulled down her panties and showed me her still-unfurred little treasure. I was sure that all this was happening because she admired my cowboy boots. Then she said "cackle my duper."

I knew what Ginny meant by "duper," though I had never heard the word before, because she pointed to it. But I was flummoxed by "cackle." I thought it might be something like "tickle," but I was pretty sure that it must have something to do with my new cowboy boots.

I decided to wing it. Slowly and ceremoniously, I lifted my right foot, and gently placed the instep of my new boot on her duper.

Strangely, this seemed to satisfy her for the moment. At that point, I think I told Ginny that I had to go.

I think Ginny must have actually liked me, apart from the boots, because in succeeding years she asked, more than once, to dance with her. She always wanted to dance the "Virginia Reel," which had, no doubt, been named after her.

I have no idea whether Ginny is still on the planet. If she is, and happens to read this, I hope she gets a chuckle out of it. I have nothing but respect for her.

Text © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night / Bonjour matin / après-midi / soir / nuit

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night, whatever it is where you are, and greetings from sunny Florida. By now you know who I am: poet, translator, photographer, naturist, feminist, lover of language and languages, and, sometimes, curmudgeon. I wear whatever hat is needed at the time, and not much else. I am 76 years old (soon to be 77), married (for 40 years, to the same woman) and retired. I was one of the Hippies of the Summer of Love (1967) in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. I am 4% Native American (Cherokee), 25% Jewish, mostly European, and 100% human. I care about many things, including spirituality and social justice.

With a background like that, you are bound to get diverse content in this blog. The blog has existed since October 2016, so it is almost three years old. In that time the entries in the blog have had more than 67,000 visits, from almost every country in the world. The communication, though is almost entirely one-way. I write to please myself, according to my interests and whatever is on my mind at the time. I would love, though, to have input from my readers. If you have suggestions, criticisms, or whatever, you can send them to me via email (exolinguist at gmail dot com). Or, simply write a comment directly in any blog entry. Thanks.

Bonjour matin / après-midi / soir / nuit, ce qu'il soit où vous vous trouvez et salutations de la Floride ensoleillée. Vous déja savez qui je suis: poète, traducteur, photographe, naturiste, féministe, amoureux de la langue et des langues et, parfois, curmudgeon (bourru). Je porte le chapeau dont on a besoin à l'époque et pas grand chose d'autre. J'ai 76 ans (bientôt 77 ans), marié (depuis 40 ans avec la même femme) et à la retraite. J'étais l'un des hippies de l'été de l'amour (1967) dans le district de Haight-Ashbury à San Francisco. Je suis 4% d'Amérindiens (Cherokee), 25% de Juifs, principalement européens et 100% humains. Je tiens à beaucoup de choses, y compris la spiritualité et la justice sociale.

Avec un tel contexte, vous aurez forcément accès à un contenu diversifié sur ce blog. Le blog existe depuis octobre 2016, il a donc presque trois ans. Durant cette période, les entrées du blog ont reçu plus de 67 000 visites, en provenance de presque tous les pays du monde. La communication, cependant, est presque entièrement à sens unique. J'écris pour me faire plaisir, en fonction de mes intérêts et de tout ce qui me préoccupe à l'époque. J'aimerais cependant avoir l'avis de mes lecteurs. Si vous avez des suggestions, des critiques ou autre chose, vous pouvez me les envoyer par courrier électronique (exolinguist at gmail dot com). Ou simplement, écrivez un commentaire directement dans une entrée de blog. Merci.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

The Map of Desire / La carte du désir

The map of desire is long and lean,
it follows us like a robot machine.
The sun rises and sets on its peaks and valleys,
never reaching into its lonely alleys.
Give it enough to keep it alive,
and allow the soul within to thrive.

La carte du désir est longue et maigre,
cela nous suit comme une machine robotisée.
Le soleil se lève et se couche sur ses pics et ses vallées,
ne jamais atteindre ses ruelles solitaires.
Donnez-le assez pour le garder en vie,
et permettez à l'âme intérieure de prospérer.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

Thoughts on the "Hail Mary" (Ave Maria)

Some of you know that at night I keep a notebook beside my bed. I record in it snippets of dreams and other things that come to me. Twice recently, words from the "Hail Mary" prayer have come to me in that way. Now, I would like it to be clear that, although I was raised Catholic, I do not practice that religion or any other. I am, though, a respecter of all religions, to the extent that they deserve it. I should also confess that, after high school, I spent two and a half months in a Jesuit novitiate, where we recited the Rosary, including the Hail Mary, in Latin, every day. Sometimes we barely had time to squeeze it in, so we had to say those Latin words very fast.

Be that as it may, I do not think that I have said either a Rosary or a Hail Mary in the last 57 years. I do not know why the words would come to me in a dream, or what it could mean, if anything. But I am a respecter of dreams and other things that come to us in the sleep state, so I did a little research.

Only the first part of the Hail Mary/Ave Maria prayer has a scriptural basis. That basis is in Lk I:28 and Lk I:42. In my edition of the Vulgate, we have these words:

have gratia plena  Dominus tecum
benedicta tu in mulieribus . . .
et benedictus fructus ventris tui

In English: Hail, full of grace, the Lord is (or be) with you.
Blessed are you among women . . .
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

After this come the Magnificat, a beautiful passage that is, for the most part, a mosaic of lines from the Psalms. I will have more to say about that beautiful passage on another occasion.

What I have quoted above is the scriptural basis for the "Hail Mary" prayer. The prayer, unlike Luke's Gospel, includes the names of Mary and Jesus.

But since the sixteenth century the "Hail Mary" has had a second part, which is the following sentence:

sancta maria mater Dei ora pro nobis peccatoribus nunc et in hora mortis nostrae

English: Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

This "second part" of the "Hail Mary" prayer does not have a scriptural basis. I find it interesting that, while I was saying those words in Latin in the novitiate, I always thought of the "second part" as somehow separate. As it turns out, there is no evidence for the added sentence before at least 1514. Some attribute the added words to Peter Canisius, a Dutch Jesuit who lived from 1521 to 1597, but this is not certain.

Even in the seminary, certain things about the "second part" of the prayer bothered me. First, the phrase "mother of God" did not sit very well with me. I now know that Jesus (Rabbi Yeshua) never claimed to be God. No Jew would. It would be the worst form of blasphemy. Secondly, to have Mary praying for us, interceding for us with the (male, of course) Deity, robs her of any power of her own. There are few women of prominence in the New Testament, and to demote and diminish one of them after 1500 years seems to me a crime against her and against all women.

Thirdly, to think of us humans primarily as sinners strikes me as medieval and bad psychology. The idea of Original Sin, which colored all Christian thinking in the Middle Ages, was popularized by Augustine of Hippo in about 400 CE. Such negative thinking about humans becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. I am, rather, a partisan of Matthew Fox's concept of Original Blessing, believing that it will lead us to better results.

In 1960, when I was reciting those Latin words and feeling twinges of discomfort about the "second part," I was not yet consciously a feminist. But I have consciously been one for almost forty-five years, and I will not accept the subtly nefarious actions of the Patriarchy just because the title "Saint" is affixed to the names of the perpetrators. If this makes me a heretic, then so be it.

Text © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

If You Wish to Know Me / Si vous voulez me connaître / ᎢᏳᏃ ᏂᎯ ᎠᏚᎳᏓᏎ ᎤᏅᏘ ᎠᏴ

If you wish to know me,
you must know me
without clothes--
that is the real me,
universal and free,
and without pretensions.

Si vous voulez me connaître,
vous devez me connaître
sans vêtement--
c'est le vrai moi,
universel et libre,
et sans prétentions.

iyuno nihi aduladase unvti ayv,
nihi ase unvti ayv dinuwo nutloyasdvna--
na gesvase udohiyu ayv,
igvwanadalegi ale adudalesda,
ale atselvdodi nutloyasdvna.

ᎢᏳᏃ ᏂᎯ ᎠᏚᎳᏓᏎ ᎤᏅᏘ ᎠᏴ,
ᏂᎯ ᎠᏎ ᎤᏅᏘ ᎠᏴ ᏗᏄᏬ ᏄᏠᏯᏍᏛᎾ--
Ꮎ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᎤᏙᎯᏳ ᎠᏴ,
ᎢᎬᏩᎾᏓᎴᎩ ᎠᎴ ᎠᏚᏓᎴᏍᏓ,
ᎠᎴ ᎠᏤᎸᏙᏗ ᏄᏠᏯᏍᏛᎾ.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler ꮨᏺꭽꮅ.