Phaedrus
Socrates: (cont.) it appears to me really laughable, not yet knowing this, to examine (skopein) alien things (allotria)
// 229ε
γελοῖον δή μοι φαίνεται τοῦτο ἔτι ἀγνοοῦντα τὰ ἀλλότρια σκοπεῖν
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Socrates: (cont.) as if consulting (chraein) some kind of rustic (agroikos) wisdom
// 229ε
ἅτε ἀγροίκῳ τινὶ σοφίᾳ χρώμενος
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diptych oceanic amechanica
hysteriac at home
woe! i am a not altogether fortunate woman
my pocket seams with potsherds polishing
a bag of skin trailing portentous signs
and i am broken news, my sand is yellow
to find my edge, i walk into the sea
her seaweed briarpatch of gorgons birth
surrendered sky by pegasi recovery
as mermaids sing flat edges for my shanty
woe! her thanatos uncanny, even for me
the horizon roars for blessing every line
shore smashing every bauble blending shades
soft seashells made tangible the breast of ocean
and time is a tangent tracing its beloved snail
and the cradle failing of her continental tail
and she is drawing, drawing, under seasons wax
pink salty glowing in her seamless milk cocoon
woe, woe! my every mask a bending earth
reflowing throng of placeless impossibility
and desires every glance she didn’t chase yet
my marbles rolling in her depthless pocket
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uteri
get em hot
skim cooling
like sumber bor
in 12 hrs or more
chocolate lava cake
stone melting
tropic shiver
truly your
earth dwelling
tacky decor
tasteless tasty
ova in—
ice tailor—
screaming
wicked
//
. . .
oh no!
dessert
amazing
1, 2, 3, ho!
smashing
to order
. . .
//
Socrates: (cont.) and then out flows a throng of things such as Gorgons and Pegasuses and multitudes of additional impossibilities (a-mechanos) and of such things giving birth (phuein) to placeless (a-topia) storytellings of monsters (teratologos) . . .
//
καὶ ἐπιρρεῖ δὲ ὄχλος τοιούτων Γοργόνων καὶ Πηγάσων καὶ ἄλλων ἀμηχάνων πλήθη τε καὶ ἀτοπίαι τερατολόγων τινῶν φύσεων
//
Plato coins “teratologos” from teras and logos; teras means a sign, marvel, wonder, divine sign, omen, portent, or monster. So teratologoi are words, accounts, stories, arguments, or reckonings about signs, marvels, wonders, divine signs, oments, portents, or monsters.
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Socrates: (cont.) for no other reason than that for him it’s necessary after this to straighten out (epanorthousthai) the form (eidos) of the Hippocentaurs, and then again that of the Chimaera,
// 229δ
κατ᾽ ἄλλο μὲν οὐδέν, ὅτι δ᾽ αὐτῷ ἀνάγκη μετὰ τοῦτο τὸ τῶν Ἱπποκενταύρων εἶδος ἐπανορθοῦσθαι, καὶ αὖθις τὸ τῆς Χιμαίρας
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Socrates: (cont.) yet they belong to an exceedingly terrible (deinos) and laborious (epiponos) and not altogether (panu) fortunate (eutuches) man
// 229δ
ἐγὼ δέ, ὦ Φαῖδρε, ἄλλως μὲν τὰ τοιαῦτα χαρίεντα ἡγοῦμαι, λίαν δὲ δεινοῦ καὶ ἐπιπόνου καὶ οὐ πάνυ εὐτυχοῦς ἀνδρός
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Socrates: (cont.) and in this way it ended up (teleutein) said that she came to be (gignomai) carried away by Boreas
// 229ξ
καὶ οὕτω δὴ τελευτήσασαν λεχθῆναι ὑπὸ τοῦ Βορέου ἀνάρπαστον γεγονέναι
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Socrates: (cont.) then i would wisely (sophein) declare that it was the wind itself of Boreas that thrust her down from the nearby rocks as she was playing with Pharmakeia
// 229ξ
εἶτα σοφιζόμενος φαίην αὐτὴν πνεῦμα Βορέου κατὰ τῶν πλησίον πετρῶν σὺν Φαρμακείᾳ παίζουσαν ὦσαι
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Pharmakeia is not associated with a known mythological figure; her name means drug, remedy, poison, or witchcraft.
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Socrates: well if i distrusted, as do the wise (hoi sophoi), then i wouldn’t be placeless (atopos)
// 229ξ
ἀλλ᾽ εἰ ἀπιστοίην, ὥσπερ οἱ σοφοί, οὐκ ἂν ἄτοπος εἴην
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Phaedrus: truly (alethes) the strongest way for me, by far, is to speak however I am able; as you seem to me someone who will in no way let me go, until I say something or other
Socrates: since i seem entirely true (alethes) to you
Phaedrus: therefore, so shall i do (poie-o). and really, O Socrates, it’s mostly that i haven’t thoroughly learned the sayings (rhema); but actually the thought (dianoia), of nearly all the ways he asserted that the lover (era-o) differs from the non-; I shall go through the chief points of each in order, beginning from the first—
Socrates: if you would first disclose, O friend (philotes), what it is you have (echo / echis) in the left hand (aristeros) under your cloak. for i guess that you are holding the speech (logos) itself; and if this is so, then think (dianoe-o) about me in this way— that while i love (phile-o) you completely, if Lysias too is present, it hasn’t seemed completely right to supply myself for you to practice on (emmeleta-o); but come on, show it! (deiknumi)
Phaedrus: stop! (pau-o) you’ve beaten me back (ekkrou-o) from my hope, O Socrates, that i would get to exercise on you; but where do you wish us to sit down and read? (anagignosko)
Socrates: turning aside there, let’s go along the Illissus; and then we’ll sit down wherever it seems (doke-o) to be in a stillness (hesuchia)
Phaedrus: good timing (kairos), it seems, that i happen to be barefoot; of course, you are always; so it’s easy for us to go down the little river getting our feet wet, and not unpleasant, especially at this season of the year and hour of the day
Socrates: go ahead then and look for anyplace we might sit
Phaedrus: then do you see that lofty platanos tree?
Socrates: well, what?
Phaedrus: there is shade there and a measured breeze (pneuma), and grass to sit on, or if we wish to lie down
Socrates: if you would lead
Phaedrus: tell me, O Socrates, isn’t it from someplace here by the Ilisus, it’s said that Boreas carried off Oreithyia?
Socrates: so it’s said
Phaedrus: isn’t it from this place? anyway the waters appear graceful and clear and transparent and made (epitedeios) for girls to play (paizein) beside it
Socrates: no, but some two or three stades down, where we cross over toward the one in Agra; and somewhere around there in that spot is an altar of Boreas
Phaedrus: i’ve never really thought about it; (noein) but tell me by Zeus, O Socrates, are you persuaded that this myth-speech (mythologema) is true?
the river lapis lazuli
no, O shining one; blue is not that place
where winter did reach down with hoarfrost arms
bent bones to bruise the springtime of your face
and turn bare beauty’s promise into grief
real damage there was done; i can’t pretend
my drunk neither forgets, nor lying, amends
that hunting season waiting down our tears
cool river measures turquoise, there to here
still no; blue shall not sing by Tristan’s chord
raw wounding round its thralling emptiness
how many months hungering that underworld
she spends, grave daughter, eating bitter ashes
if she is me, let sapphire be my child by you
whose ugly was the laughing sky of love
my labyrinth, your golden through-and-through
soft multitudes, the movements of your dying
and no; your course was not a trap for girls
exquisite river lapis lazuli
blue hemlock was your legendary cure
a momentary how it is, it is
azure, just piece enough for memory
what graces by your leaves still green in me
this grove might tender shelter; with blue to show
by silence of the tree who names it so
//
selamat purnama 🌕
//
& ten candles
on my horse loverly
logician patrician
still finishing his still
blue earthy pastel
for brave accompany
her genus differentia
mycelia mysteria
her lightest touches
dear puffins, potatoes
& tatami gauze
//
Phaedrus: (cont.) but tell me by Zeus, O Socrates, are you persuaded that this myth-speech (mythologema) is true?
// 229ξ
ἀλλ᾽ εἰπὲ πρὸς Διός, ὦ Σώκρατες, σὺ τοῦτο τὸ μυθολόγημα πείθῃ ἀληθὲς εἶναι;
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