More and more, in this modern “information” age we find ourselves at a loss to understand the archaic cultures that came before us. Data comes at us so fast and furiously that we have little room in our brains to retain things that do not directly relate to modern culture (or pictures of cats). Honey Boo-boo in, DaVinci out.
So it is with Poetry.
What is this “poetry”, you ask? Poetry was a language spoken hundreds of years ago in Europe, mostly in France. It usually consisted of a whole lot of nonsense words and phrases. It was originally developed to confuse Vikings. The Vikings were known for many things, thinking not being one of them. The French people found that if they could confuse the Vikings with poetry, they could usually get away without being beheaded.
Poetry in today’s society.
Poetry has NO place it today’s society because all of the Vikings have moved to Canada and have become drunks. Some people who hang out in libraries have brought up that poetry is very similar to modern-day rap. This, however, is utter nonsense as the French never wrote poems about drive-bys or bitches and hos.
Even though poetry has no bearing on our futuristic space lives, it doesn’t mean it can’t be appreciated. I have gone to great lengths to translate to following snippets of poetry. It shows the delicacy that the French took in crafting lines of words. It also shows the length they would go to avoid confrontation with Vikings.
Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Please do not bash in my head!
Here is some cheese.
I will now run away!
The above is an example of a traditional French poem. It was traditionally used as a greeting and said before meals as a prayer.
the wind of Mt. Fuji
I’ve brought on my fan!
a gift from Edo
I am so afraid of you,
That I have moved to Japan
This is an unusual example of a poem that was sent to the homeland via carrier pigeon. Most French people who tried to cross the ocean (to escape the Vikings) forgot that they needed a boat and drowned.
Hwæt wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum
þēod-cyninga þrym Beowulf
hū ðā æþelingas ellen fremedon
Oft Scyld Beowulf sceaþena þrēatum
monegum mægþum meodo-setla oftēah
egsian eorl syððan ǣrest weorþan
Eek! Your Viking muscles scare me,
It makes me pee my fancy French pants.
You may have all of my land and belongings,
Please do not bash my head in with a rock.
This is a copy of the very first poem known to exist entitled “Beowulf.” Beowulf literally translates into “RUN!” It was written in ancient French which, when spoken, sounded like two cats fighting.
So, in conclusion, even though poetry never served it purpose as a Viking deterrent, it will live long in the hearts and minds of people who wear berets and eat stinky cheese. The more occupied they are with poetry the easier it is for me to break into thier cars and steal thier iPods. Which, in retrospect, is all anyone could ever ask for.