#ode 1.11

[brasideios]

‘… Be wise, strain the wine and cut back long hope, into a small space. Even as we speak, envious time flies past. Harvest the day and leave as little as possible for tomorrow.’

(Horace, Odes 1.11)

[quiqualardeche]

Ode 1.11 Não procures, Leucónoe — ímpio será sabê-lo —, que fim a nós os dois os deuses destinaram; não consultes sequer os números babilónicos: melhor é aceitar! E venha o que vier! Quer Júpiter te dê inda muitos Invernos, quer seja o derradeiro este que ora desfaz nos rochedos hostis ondas do mar Tirreno, vive com sensatez destilando o teu vinho e, como a vida é breve, encurta a longa esp’rança. De inveja o tempo voa enquanto nós falamos: trata pois de colher o dia, o dia de hoje, que nunca o de amanhã merece confiança. - poeta romano Horácio.

o poeta Horácio está aconselhando Leucónoe a não buscar conhecer o futuro, especialmente através de práticas como a astrologia ou a leitura dos números babilônicos. O poema é conhecido por sua reflexão sobre a incerteza do futuro e a efemeridade da vida. Sugerindo que é melhor aceitar o que vier, seja um futuro longo ou curto, e viver com sabedoria no presente. O conselho é para que Leucónoe aproveite a vida, sem tentar prever ou controlar excessivamente o destino.

A expressão "encurta a longa esp’rança" significa "diminui a longa esperança" ou "abrevia a extensa expectativa". Horácio está aconselhando Leucónoe a não estender demasiadamente suas expectativas para o futuro. A ideia é que a vida é curta e incerta, então é melhor não depositar excessivamente suas esperanças em eventos distantes ou incertos. Ao encurtar a esperança, o poeta sugere que Leucónoe deve focar no presente e nas oportunidades imediatas, em vez de depender excessivamente de promessas futuras ou de eventos que podem estar além do controle humano.

Essa mensagem se alinha ao tema geral do poema, que destaca a importância de viver o momento presente, pois o futuro é incerto, e a vida é efêmera.

[mniejniz48]

Podsumowanie listopada

W tym miesiącu było bardzo dużo dni gdzie jadłam 1200 kcal co bym chciała zmienić w grudniu

Nie udało mi się zrobić żadnego fasta mimo że niektóre trwały ponad 29 godzin (np. od 14 jednego dnia do 19 następnego i potem jadłam ) mam nadzieję że wiecie o co mi chodzi

Nie chcę podawać dokładnie mojej wagi bo jest mi za nią wstyd poprostu ale od 1.11 do wagi z dziś rano udało się schudnąć tylko 2,4 kg no ale nie dziwię się że tak mało bo jadłam chore ilości jedzenia ale starałam się dużo spalać

I to tyle

[moonmoonthecrabking]

in fall fair ocean says “carpe diem!” but i know for a fact that she would absolutely hate the ideals of horace.

the poem that phrase comes from is something like “leuconoe, don’t worry about whether jupiter will give us many more winters or just this one and do not consult the babylonian calculations (astrology). be wise, strain the wine, and seize the day, and put your hope into the future as little as possible” (this is a rough translation from memory it’s ode 1.11 if you want to look it up!!)

my point is, horace’s lessons focussed a lot on enjoyment, “seizing the day” for him was less about taking advantage of your opportunities so you can progress faster, but rather living for enjoyment and internal fulfilment bc we’re all going to die one day. i don’t think pre-canon ocean would like him very much.

but hey, they both think they’re better than everyone else!!!!

[slovaksinadelaide]

Filmový festival už v piatok 1.11.24

V piatok 1.11. o 6pm sa začína slávostné otvorenie Filmového Festivalu recepciou s pohostením a hudobným vystúpením Marty a Mateja Šutora. O 7pm sa bude premietať slovensko-český film Od marca do mája a krátky film Burina

V sobotu 2.11.24 o 4:30pm Krysár a Zmiznutý svet rukavíc

V sobotu 2.11.24 o 6:30pm komédia Aristokrati

V sobotu 9.11.24 o 3:00pm Tonko, Slávka a kúzelné svetlo

[uprzejmie-donosze]

TSK24625 (recydywa 2) Warszawa — Pojazd był zaparkowany na części drogi przeznaczonej dla rowerów (art. 49. 1.11 prd) Pojazd marki Jeep pozostawiony na pasie dla rowerów oraz bliżej niż 10m od przejścia dla pieszych.

-- września 2024

[brandkessa]

Amrita Tussar Fabric Set

SKU: KULA23 This set is an ode to the royal heritage and craftsmanship of Indian tussar prized for its lush texture, velvety skin feel and toasty comfort.

Kurta: Length 98 inch (2.5 m), Width 44 inch (1.11 m)

Dupatta: Length 99 inch (2.5 m), Width 36 inch (0.9 m)

Please note: This garment is non-stitched and worn solely for presentation. The garment showcased is for display purposes only.

[catscraftsandcommentary]

Ooh, I can speak to this! So back in the day, I earned a bachelor's degree in Latin, which basically meant taking classes in translation and history and culture and TRANSLATION dear gods so much translation... Our program generally switched each semester between poetry and prose authors, so you'd have a semester studying 1-2 authors who wrote prose, and the next would be 1-2 authors of poetry. Except for the one semester I took medieval Latin - that professor just jumped around a bunch of different authors and actually showed us some (copies of) manuscripts, which was really interesting.

But yes! Translating is hard! Translating Latin to English is *extra* hard because Latin DOES NOT form sentences the same way that English does - English relies very heavily on word order for its meaning and very lightly on word endings, but Latin depends almost exclusively on word endings.

Translating was always like working out a puzzle. You'd look at your Latin, figure out what each word's base translation was, then what it was *probably* doing grammatically in the sentence (sometimes the endings overlapped, or could drop letters to look like other endings, it was VERY fun and not at ALL confusing), and then try to fit it together with the other pieces you had. Sometimes (often) you'd have a translation you'd looked up somewhere, but those aren't always reliable or very accurate (especially for poetry, and our professors tried to get us to translate things as literally as possible).

Sometimes you'd look at your mess of words/puzzle pieces and your reference translation and go "HOW in the FUCK did they get from point A to point Z?!?" And then of course you'd go to class the next day and your professor would make it so SO INCREDIBLY SIMPLE.

There's a few lines in the middle of Horace's Odes 1.11 - the poem where we get the phrase "carpe diem" from - that are like that.

I translated this a while back for a friend who has a "carpe diem" tattoo. "Carpere" was the verb Romans used to describe plucking grapes, so it probably would have meant something more like "savor" or "enjoy" than something semi-violent like "seize."

Also, because Latin depends on word endings for its grammatical structure, poetry can do really cool stuff with word placement that Vergil in particular does ALL THE TIME. I don't have a fancy example offhand, but if he was talking about, IDK,

The Roman cavalry encircled the barbarian horde with shining spears

then the actual WORD ORDER word look like

[The Roman] [with shining] [the barbarian] [encircled] [horde] [spears] [cavalry]

AND IT WOULD MAKE SENSE. And each little bracket is one word in Latin.

(Yes, my old translation books have SOOOOO many little arrows and parentheses and underlines connecting different words and phrases, why do you ask?)

Random confession, pretty much the only thing keeping me from trying my hand at translating the AWAU to my first language is that I don't think I have enough skill as a poet to get Jaskier's songs right (not to mention my first language tends to have a lot of words that are two or three syllables long, or even more than that, which is an absolute fucking pain if you want to keep both the meaning and the rhythm right; even actual professional translations of fantasy books sometimes just settle for a different meter in the poems than the original text had). Like, sure, there's other things I'd be a little apprehensive about probably, but that's the only actual reason why I haven't already started trying to do a translation, lol. But eh, maybe someday, when and if I have had the patience to teach myself to have some ear for poetry...

Oooh, poetry is hard to translate. As in, I've read essays from people saying that you can keep the meaning, or the feel, or the actual direct translation, but not all three, and certainly not while retaining the meter or rhyme scheme.

But maybe someday!

[darlinglove]

Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios temptaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati. seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam, quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida aetas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.

- Horácio. ode 1.11

[audax]

i will always read sth as the subjunctive perfect rather than the future perfect and that’s why i am too powerful

[utterlyinevitable]

Small fic request where Odette cries and Ethan is the one to comfort her 🥺

Intonation 

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Odette Hall) Rating: General Summary: In lieu of barging into Ethan’s office in that totally bizarre scene, later in the day when things get too much, Ode goes to cry in a closet. Of course the last person she’d ever want to see catches her in such a state.  Trope: Angst; Supply Closet; 1.9

Word Count: 1,096

A/N: Here’s some rare Book 1 OxE! A lot of the time I forget they (Odette) did not like the another as people until mid-way through Banerji’s case, definitely after 1.11 is when they start to encroach on work friends territory. Sooo here’s some 1.9 angst.   

__________________

The linen closet is dim; one of the two fluorescent bulbs out of juice. It’s a good thing too. Odette certainly doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here; crying in an unused closet of the newly renovated fifth floor wing not too far from where Dr. Banerji’s being hidden away.

Her head thrown back against the empty metal shelving, hot tears rolling down her cheeks like an unforgiving rockfall. Her arms folded so tightly around her chest. It feels like everything’s caving in. The crushing sense of failure crippling her and wringing her lungs until no sound comes out; just he hot tears of a minute of weakness.   

She’ll allow this inconvenience ten minutes. A quick ten minutes to herself in the most secluded of places. Yes. Ten minutes to get it all out and then pretend like nothing’s happened. 

Odette Hall lets go. Lets the picture perfect painted façade fall like a curtain on a play. Alone, in the dark, without any spotlight or watchful scrutinizing eyes, she lets the most private part of herself free, momentarily. Water runs down her cheeks as unforgiving as an overflowing river. There’s a prick at her sides, from her pristine fingernails digging into the fabric of her cotton scrubs. If she gripped any harder she’d tear a neat little hold. 

Everything she’s feeling tightened together like the frayed segments of a rubberband ball on the verge of snapping. Her frustration for this PITA patient she can’t seem to shake; can’t seem to get the diagnosis nor assert herself and her abilities. Another person who just sees her as a young and pretty face. Most of all she’s crying for the newest diagnosis she’s had to give. Odette knew the job wasn’t going to be easy - worthwhile things never are - it’s just... She needs some time to stop feeling so much. 

The wing is so new she doesn’t hear the door opening. Yet she hears him, unmistakably, in the quiet hum in ventilation of this wing.  

“Rookie?”

Doesn’t matter that the condescending nickname is said with more concerned wrapped confusion than she’d ever think capable of such a pompous and stoic man. Him being here - now of all times - is a burn. A brandish on his already weak perception of her, she’s sure. 

She turns her shoulder to him, wipes her eyes with the pads of her fingertips as to not muss her makeup any further. Dabbing so the red of her skin doesn’t give her away. Odette can feel the lingering heat; the drying trail of utter disappointment staining her features. 

“I’m alright, Dr. Ramsey,” she says; confident and like she’s above it all. Like he’s just walked in on nothing out of the ordinary; like she’s just looking over a case file. Cool, calm and frighteningly casual in the shadows. Even if the reds overtaking the whites of her eyes and other telltale signs will give her away as soon as she turns around.  

“Clearly.” 

His scoff is muted by something she’s only ever seen a glimmer of before in the depths of his icy stare. Pity, maybe? Either way it forces her stomach down to the darkened depths of wherever this outburst spurred from. She doesn’t need his endless sky-lit eyes imploring her. Doesn’t need for him to find another reason to berate her today. 

Out the corner of her eye she sees Dr. Ramsey shut the door; near enough so no one could peek in, ajar enough not to rouse suspicions of infidelity. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.” Odette turns to him and shoots the brightest, most composed grin. Hopes that in this poor lighting he cannot truly see through the cracks. 

Odette should know better than to muster false flattery with a lie detector. 

She’s shuffling in her heels trying to find a gap to slip through and out of this unpleasant predicament, whilst his arms are crossed. He won’t budge to let her past; statuesque and imperious in the doorway. 

Resigned and huffy, she folds her arms, matching his stance as best she can.  It’s a face-off in this 4-by-4 box. In such close quarters Dr. Ramsey’s cologne mingles with her perfume. Foreign and laudatory; sandalwood and soap, a hint of citrus too. 

“If you must know, I had to deliver a difficult diagnosis.”  

He still doesn’t move.  

There’s a bite in her exasperated retort; “I’d like to get back to work now.” A tap of her toe hones her impatient point. 

“What happened?” he says once more. 

“I just told you-” 

“The diagnosis, Hall.” His face softens once he catches the rigid way her spine strengthens at his uncompromising tone. “What was it?” 

A gust of stale air passes her dry lips, her eyes cast down and refuse to meet his. The new wing’s linoleum tiling has blue and green speckles mixed with gray. 

In addition to the hum of the central air, all Odette can hear is the beating of her heart prick up to her ears with the bubbling emotion once more. But her ten allotted minutes are over and now she has an audience. 

After a deep sobering breath she all but whispers,

“Preeclampsia.” 

Neither doctor tries to hide the pained expression that contorts their features and washes over them. 

A moment of silence reigns; whether intentional or not, both look in opposite directions to mourn the memory. 

Dr. Ramsey is the first one to speak; his voice gruff after clearing his throat. 

“And?” 

“Being monitored.” Odette’s eyes flick to his face. “She’s okay. For the time being. I’m planning to check on her after lunch.” 

Dr. Ramsey gazes down at his watch and Odette wonders if he has her schedule memorized by now. He assigns her patients, tells her where and when in the day to visit Naveen, seemingly finds her at one of the lowest points in her medical career with no effort at all. Does he know she should be on her break - is on her own time. 

He finally steps aside, further into the dark space; 

“Grab some food, Dr. Hall.” 

She musters a tight smile in gratitude as she slides past him and into the grateful bustle of day. She’s nearly fully illuminated by the bright white light when solemn - personable, even - words reach her ears. 

“And, Rookie,”

She turns to him, green eyes trained on the shelving beyond his shoulder. 

“If you need anything, please come find me.” 

Odette nods, once and short, before walking away; determined not to show another emotion to half the reason for her grief. 

_____________________

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations 

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[hypokeimena]

i pulled and glossed/translated several latin poems for my middle schoolers yesterday which is the eternal balance of "this content is inappropriate" vs "this grammar is too complex". anyway i pulled cat. 70 (oportet aqua), hor. od. 1.11 (carpe diem), and a little bit of sulpicia just because i love her and maybe they'll be able to go at it in a month or two (2.1-4, 3, the birthday poems). if anyone has any recommendations please hit me up LOL

[scirenefas]

Horace, Odes 1.11

Tu ne quaesieris (scire nefas) quem mihi, quem tibi

finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios

temptaris numeros. Ut melius quicquid erit pati

seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,

quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare

Tyrrhenum, sapias, vina liques et spatio brevi

spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida

aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

_

Do not ask (to know is a sin) what end

the gods have given to me, or to you, Leuconoe,

nor try Babylonian numbers. How much better it is to suffer whatever will be

whether Jupiter has bestowed many more winters or the last,

which now weakens the Tyrrhenian Sea with opposing pumice stones;

be wise, strain wines, prune your long hope within a short length.

While we are speaking, envious age will have fled:

harvest the day, trusting as little as possible to the future.

– Horace, Odes 1.11

[strawberry-em]

Zgodnie z prośbą dzisiaj trochę o stronie praktycznej sabatu Samhain. Ale może na początek, czym on w ogóle jest?

Jest to sabat rozpoczynający Nowy Rok Czarownic. Obchodzimy go (głównie) od 31.10 do 1.11. Samhain to też ostatni sabat w kole roku, więc stąd bierze się teoria o Bogatym Rogu, który umiera, więc natura razem z nim. Nad naturą przez najbliższe miesiące rządzić będzie Starucha. Przez naturę na zewnątrz, która nie zawsze jest kolorowa, wspominamy naszych zmarłych. Dlaczego akurat ten dzień? Ponieważ w wierzeniach jest podane, że pomiędzy nami, a śmiercią przepaść jest wtedy najmniejsza.

Może teraz teorio-praktyka. Samhain to święto ognia, który oświetla drogę zmarłym duszom. Kiedyś palono ogniska, aby wnieść ogień do domów. Stąd właśnie wzięło się przebieranie na Halloween, kiedyś ludzie bali się, że złe duchy będą chciały im coś zrobić, więc ubierali skóry zwierzęce i stare potargane ubrania, aby udawać jednego z nich.

Jeżeli chodzi o to, co można robić w Samhain, jest tego masa! Tutaj wymienię kilka rzeczy, które ja mam zamiar zrobić:

Chodzenie po lasach - jako czarownica, jestem mocno związana z naturą, więc nic dziwnego, że idę tam, aby patrzeć na resztki lata.

Palenie ognisk - czarownice już odchodzą od tej tradycji, ponieważ nierzadko mieszkają w miastach i nie mają gdzie tego zrobić, a jak wiadomo, musi być to miejsce specjalnie przeznaczone do ognisk. Zapal ognisko i pociesz się ostatnim ciepłem.

Rzeźbienie dyni, zrobienie z niej latarenki - oczywiście specjalnie dla zmarłych dusz, które gubią się w tym świecie.

Palenie świec w kolorze sabatu - są to takie brązowe i pomarańczowate świece.

Wybrać się na cmentarz - chyba najbardziej oczywiste, bo w końcu to Wigilia Zmarłych.

Pieczenie magicznych ciast - ja zazwyczaj w jakiejś intencji daję trochę wody księżycowej.

Samhain jest najlepsze dla magii ochronnej, emocjonalnej (w tym miłosnej) i oczywiście takiej, która mogłaby pomóc ogarnąć nam żałobę po zmarłym i smutku na co dzień. Ważne są też rytuały oczyszczające, polecam jakiś zrobić. Jeżeli chcemy pozbyć się myślenia o np. starej miłości to też są na to różnego rodzaju rytuały. Kilka z nich jest zamieszczonych na blogu internetowym "Poradnik czarownicy" więc zapraszam Was właśnie tam. NIE jestem profesjonalistką w temacie zaklęć, więc tego musicie poszukać u innych, bo po prostu nie chcę wytłumaczyć czegoś źle i pogrążyć Was, Myszki. Warto też zrobić prezenty dla bliskich, bo każda czarownica na sabaty daje drobne upominki.

Chyba tyle wiem na temat tego sabatu. Jeżeli coś jeszcze Was interesuje, to z chęcią odpowiem na wszystkie pytania. Mam nadzieję, że to satysfakcjonująca odpowiedź dla ciebie. 💖

[darkacademicx]

carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe caelo, amica.

“carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.” - Odes 1.11 ("Seize the day, put very little trust in tomorrow“)

Some fun facts about carpe diem:

The first recorded instance of carpe diem occurs in the Epic of Gilgamesh and is the advice Siduri gives to Gilgamesh.

Related sayings include:

Collige, virgo, rosas ("gather, girl, the roses")

“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"

memento mori (remember that you are mortal) 

and finally:

[uprzejmie-donosze]

WF4047X Warszawa — Pojazd był zaparkowany na części drogi przeznaczonej dla rowerów (PoRD Art. 49. 1.11.). Pojazd marki Mini zaparkowany pasie dla rowerów oraz bliżej niż 10m od przejścia dla pieszych .

-- kwietnia 2024