"Cimeria" by Robert E. Howard (in English)

Illustrated by Barry Windsor Smith (Savage Tales of Conan #2, Marvel -1973).

"Le Petit Chaperon Rouge" by Charles Perrault (in French)

From Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé Avec des Moralitéz.

 

Il estoit une fois une petite fille de Village, la plus jolie qu'on eut sçû voir; sa mere en estoit folle, & sa mere grand plus folle encore. Cette bonne femme luy fit faire un petit chaperon rouge, qui luy seïoit si bien, que par tout on l'appelloit le Petit chaperon rouge.

            Un jour sa mere ayant cui & fait des galettes, luy dit, va voir comme se porte ta mere-grand, car on m'a dit qu'elle estoit malade, porte luy une galette & ce petit pot de beure. Le petit chaperon rouge partit aussi-tost pour aller chez sa mere-grand, qui demeuroit dans un autre Village. En passant dans un bois elle rencontra compere le Loup, qui eut bien envie de la manger, mais il n'osa, à cause de quelques Bucherons qui estoient dans la Forest. Il luy demanda où elle alloit; la pauvre enfant qui ne sçavoit pas qu'il est dangereux de s'arrester à écouter un Loup, luy dit, je vais voir ma Mere-grand, & luy porter une galette avec un petit pot de beurre, que ma Mere luy envoye. Demeure-t'elle bien loin, lui dit le Loup? Oh ouy, dit le petit chaperon rouge, c'est par de-là le moulin que vous voyez tout là-bas, là-bas, à la premiere maison du Village. Et bien, dit le Loup, je veux l'aller voir aussi; je m'y en vais par ce chemin icy, & toi par ce chemin-là, & nous verrons qui plûtost y sera. Le Loup se mit à courir de toute sa force par le chemin qui estoit le plus court, & la petite fille s'en alla par le chemin le plus long, s'amusant à cueillir des noisettes, à courir aprés des papillons, & à faire des bouquets des petites fleurs qu'elle rencontroit. Le Loup ne fut pas long-temps à arriver à la maison de la Mere-grand, il heurte: Toc, toc, qui est-là? C'est vôtre fille le petit chaperon rouge (dit le Loup, en contrefaisant sa voix) qui vous apporte une galette, & un petit pot de beurre que ma Mere vous envoye. La bonne Mere-grand qui estoit dans son lit à cause qu'elle se trouvoit un peu mal, luy cria, tire la chevillette, la bobinette chera, le Loup tira la chevillette, & la porte s'ouvrit. Il se jetta sur la bonne femme, & la devora en moins de rien; car il y avoit plus de trois jours qu'il n'avoit mangé. Ensuite il ferma la porte, & s'alla coucher dans le lit de la Mere-grand, en attendant le petit chaperon rouge, qui quelque temps aprés vint heurter à la porte. Toc, toc: qui est là? Le petit chaperon rouge qui entendit la grosse voix du Loup, eut peur d'abord, mais croyant que sa Mere-grand estoit enrhumée, répondit, c'est vostre fille le petit chaperon rouge, qui vous apporte une galette & un petit pot de beurre que ma Mere vous envoye. Le Loup luy cria, en adoucissant un peu sa voix; tire la chevillette, la bobinette chera. Le petit chaperon rouge tira la chevillette, & la porte s'ouvrit. Le Loup la voyant entrer, lui dit en se cachant dans le lit sous la couverture: mets la galette & le petit pot de beurre sur la huche, & viens te coucher avec moy. Le petit chaperon rouge se deshabille, & va se mettre dans le lit, où elle fut bien estonnée de voir comment sa Mere-grand estoit faite en son deshabillé, elle luy dit, ma mere-grand que vous avez de grands bras! c'est pour mieux t'embrasser, ma fille: ma mere-grand que vous avez de grandes jambes? c'est pour mieux courir mon enfant: ma mere-grand que vous avez de grandes oreilles? c'est pour mieux écouter mon enfant. Ma mere-grand que vous avez de grands yeux? c'est pour mieux voir, mon enfant. Ma mere-grand que vous avez de grandes dens? c'est pour te manger. Et en disant ces mots, ce méchant Loup se jetta sur le petit chaperon rouge, & la mangea.

MORALITÉ.

On voit icy que de jeunes enfans,

Sur tout de jeunes filles,

Belles, bien faites, & gentilles,

Font tres-mal d'écouter toute sorte de gens,

Et que ce n'est pas chose étrange,

S'il en est tant que le loup mange.

Je dis le loup, car tous les loups;

Ne sont pas de la mesme sorte;

Il en est d'une humeur accorte,

Sans bruit, sans fiel & sans couroux,

Qui privez, complaisans & doux,

Suivant les jeunes Demoiselles,

Jusque dans les maisons, jusque dans les ruelles;

Mais helas! qui ne sçait que ces Loups doucereux,

De tous les Loups sont les plus dangereux.

Alì dagli Occhi Azzurri by Pier Paolo Pasolini (in Italian)

                             Alì dagli Occhi Azzurri

                             uno dei tanti figli di figli,

                             scenderà da Algeri, su navi

                             a vela e a remi.Saranno

                             con lui migliaia di uomini

                             coi corpicini e gli occhi

                             di poveri cani dei padri

sulle barche varate nei Regni della Fame. Porteranno con sè i bambini,

e il pane e il formaggio, nelle carte gialle del Lunedì di Pasqua.

Porteranno le nonne e gli asini, sulle triremi rubate ai porti coloniali.

                             Sbarcheranno a Crotone o a Palmi,

                             a milioni, vestiti di stracci

                             asiatici,e di camicie americane.

                             Subito i Calabresi diranno,

                             come da malandrini a malandrini:

                             " Ecco i vecchi fratelli,

                             coi figli e il pane e formaggio!"

                             Da Crotone o Palmi saliranno

                             a Napoli, e da lì a Barcellona,

                             a Salonicco e a Marsiglia,

                             nelle Città della Malavita.

                             Anime e angeli, topi e pidocchi,

                             col germe della Storia Antica

                             voleranno davanti alle willaye.

                             Essi sempre umili

                             essi sempre deboli

                             essi sempre timidi

                             essi sempre infimi

                             essi sempre colpevoli

                             essi sempre sudditi

                             essi sempre piccoli,

essi che non vollero mai sapere, essi che ebbero occhi solo per implorare,

essi che vissero come assassini sotto terra, essi che vissero come banditi

in fondo al mare, essi che vissero come pazzi in mezzo al cielo,

                             essi che si costruirono

                             leggi fuori dalla legge,

                             essi che si adattarono

                             a un mondo sotto il mondo

                             essi che credettero

                             in un Dio servo di Dio,

                             essi che cantavano

                             ai massacri dei re,

                             essi che ballavano

                             alle guerre borghesi,

                             essi che pregavano

                             alle lotte operaie...

"Thomas the Rhymer" by Unknown Writer (in English)

Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.

TRUE Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e;
And there he saw a ladye bright
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.
Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,	5
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka tett o' her horse's mane,
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,
And louted low down on his knee	10
'Hail to thee Mary, Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth could never be.'
'O no, O no, Thomas' she said,
'That name does not belang to me;
I'm but the Queen o' fair Elfland,	15
That am hither come to visit thee.
'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said;
'Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be.'	20
'Betide me weal; betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunten me.'
Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.
'Now ye maun go wi' me,' she said,	25
'True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.'
She 's mounted on her milk-white steed,
She 's ta'en true Thomas up behind;	30
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind.
O they rade on, and farther on,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind;
Until they reach'd a desert wide,	35
And living land was left behind.
'Light down, light down now, true Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide ye there a little space,
And I will show you ferlies three.	40
'O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the Path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.
'And see ye not yon braid, braid road,	45
That lies across the lily leven?
That is the Path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the Road to Heaven.
'And see ye not yon bonny road
That winds about the fernie brae?	50
That is the Road to fair Elfland,
Where thou and I this night maun gae.
'But, Thomas, ye sall haud your tongue,
Whatever ye may hear or see;
For speak ye word in Elfyn-land,	55
Ye'll ne'er win back to your ain countrie.'
O they rade on, and farther on,
And they waded rivers abune the knee;
And they saw neither sun nor moon,
But they heard the roaring of the sea.	60
It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight,
They waded thro' red blude to the knee;
For a' the blude that 's shed on the earth
Rins through the springs o' that countrie.
Syne they came to a garden green,	65
And she pu'd an apple frae a tree:
'Take this for thy wages, true Thomas;
It will give thee the tongue that can never lee.'
'My tongue is my ain,' true Thomas he said;
'A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!	70
I neither dought to buy or sell
At fair or tryst where I might be.
'I dought neither speak to prince or peer,
Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!'—
'Now haud thy peace, Thomas,' she said,	75
'For as I say, so must it be.'
He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair o' shoon of the velvet green;
And till seven years were gane and past,
True Thomas on earth was never seen.	80

GLOSS:  ferlie] marvel.  tett] tuft, lock.  harp and carp] play and recite (as a minstrel).  leven] ?lawn.  dought] could.

"Jabberwock" by Lewis Carroll (in English)

  from "Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There" (1871).

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Ode XXXIV" by Anacreon (in Portuguese)

 Translated by Almeida Cousin

Oh! Não me fujas, bela môça,
Porque está branco o meu cabelo
e a tua cor é semelhante
À flor no seu viçar mais belo!...
Oh! Não desprezes meus delírios,
Só porque tens cores mimosas.
Vê: nos diademas em que há lírios,
Que bem resplendem junto as rosas!

A Robin Hood Ballad by Unknown Writer (in English)

 

From The English and Scottish Popular Ballads
by Francis James Child, 1888.

 

1 Robin Hood hee was and a tall young man,
Derry derry down
And fifteen winters old,
   And Robin Hood he was a proper young man,
Of courage stout and bold.
Hey down derry derry down.

2 Robin Hood he would and to fair Nottingham,
With the general for to dine;
   There was he ware of fifteen forresters,
And a drinking bear, ale, and wine.

3 'What news? What news?' said bold Robin Hood;
'What news, fain wouldest thou know?
   'Our king hath provided a shooting-match:'
'And I'm ready with my bow.'
 
4 'We hold it in scorn,' then said the forresters,
That ever a boy so young
   Should bear a bow before our king,
That's not able to draw one string.'

5 'I'le hold you twenty marks,' said bold Robin Hood,
'By the leave of Our Lady,
   That I'le hit a mark a hundred rod,
And I'le cause a hart to dye.'

6 'We'l hold you twenty mark,' then said the forresters,
'By the leave of Our Lady,
   Thou hitst not the marke a hundred rod,
Nor causest a hart to dye.'

7 Robin Hood he bent up a noble bow,
And a broad arrow he let flye,
   He hit the mark a hundred rod,
And he causest a hart to dye.'

8 Some said hee brake ribs one or two,
And some said hee brake three;
   The arrow within the hart would not abide,
But it glanced in two or three.

9 The hart did skip, and the hart did leap,
And the hart lay on the ground,
   'The wager is mine,' said bold Robin Hood,
'If 't were for a thousand pound.'

10 'The wager's none of thine,' then said the forresters,
'Although thou beest in haste;
     Take up thy bow, and get thee hence,
Lest wee thy sides do baste.'

11 Robin Hood he took up his noble bow,
And his broad arrows all amain,
     And Robin Hood he laught, and begun to smile,
As hee went over the plain.

12 Then Robin Hood hee bent his noble bow,
And his broad arrows he let flye,
     Till fourteen of these fifteen forresters
Vpon the ground did lye.

13 He that did this quarrel first begin
Went tripping over the plain,
     But Robin Hood he bent his noble bow,
And hee fetcht him back again.

14 'You said I was no archer,' said Robin Hood,
'But say so now again;'
     With that he sent another arrow
That split his head in twain.

15 'You have found mee an archer,' saith Robin Hood,
'Which will make your wives to wring,
     And wish that you had never spoke the word,
That I could not draw one string.'

16 The people that lived in fair Nottingham
Came runing out amain,
      Supposing to have taken bold Robin Hood,
With the forresters that were slain.

17 Some lost legs, and some lost arms,
And some did lose their blood,
     But Robin Hood hee took up his noble bow,
And is gone to the merry green wood.

18 They carryed these forresters into fair Nottingham,
As many there did know;
     They digd them graves in their church-yard,
And they buried them all a row.