holden_caulfield

DAILY HOLDEN-O-METER: Holden. . .is going to try to crash a few afternoon classes tomorrow: MATH 325, Differential Equations and MATH 370, Probability and Statistics I, since his incomplete classes can't be converted to letter grades anymore. They shall remain "I" for all eternity. Could it be, perhaps, because they are over three years old?

Differential Equations and Probability and Statistics I are not Holden's first choices for classes to take. . .by a long shot. These classes will likely be a royal pain in the ass. Unfortunately, Holden has little choice because he is registering so late and, to be frank, there really aren't any wonderful choices left to complete his Math minor. Holden only hopes that he may persuade Dr. Rico to allow him to complete some independent study Spanish courses, because the 300-400 level options are bleak this term in that subject. Luckily, Dr. Rico is a very pleasant Mexican with whom Holden has good rapport. Let's hope he is still as nice as he was three years ago.

Holden was a very bad boy today and took another three-hour nap after his four-mile exercise walk. Let's hope that he can fall asleep in time to crash those classes starting at 1:00pm.

Well, if you have read this far, and you're on my friends list (or you remembered to wish me a Happy Birthday recently), please step up to the plate and be one of the first five to request your free--absolutely no obligation--Gmail (Google) e-mail account. I have five invites to spare.

Should you be one of the first five to request this in my journal. . .that should be obvious enough. . .be sure to drop me an e-mail through SG. . .because I'll be needing it to set you up.


My Current Literary Contribution:



Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer, 1836-1871(?)
(born G.A. Domnguez Bastida)


Rima XI
por Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer

Yo soy ardiente, yo soy morena,
yo soy el smbolo de la pasin,
de ansia de goces mi alma est llena.
A m me buscas?
No es a ti, no.

Mi frente es plida, mis trenzas de oro:
puedo brindarte dichas sin fin,
yo de ternura guardo un tesoro.
A m me llamas?
No, no es a ti.

Yo soy un sueo, un imposible,
vano fantasma de niebla y luz;
soy incorprea, soy intangible:
no puedo amarte.
Oh ven, ven t!


"Holden's Translation" (Please be aware that literary translation takes many years of study. Since I couldn't find a translation on the Internet, this will have to do for now):

Rhyme XI
by Gustavo Adolfo Bcquer

I am burning, I am brunette,
I am the symbol of passion,
My soul is full of anxious yearning.
Do you seek me?
No, not you.

My face is fair; by braids, of gold:
I can give you endless riches,
From my tenderness I guard a treasure.
Are you calling me?
No, not you.

I am a dream, an impossibility,
vain ghost of fog and light;
I am incorporal, I am intangible:
I cannot love you.
Oh, come, please come!