Multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus
Carried through many nations and over many seas
advenio has miseras frater ad inferias
I arrive, brother, for these wretched funeral rites
ut te postremo donarem munere mortis
so that I might present you with the last tribute of death
et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem
and speak in vain to silent ash
quandoqudem Fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum
since Fortune has carried away from me, you in the flesh
heu msier indigne frater adempte mihi
Alas, poor brother, unfairly taken away from me
nunc tamen interea haec prisco quae more parentum
now in the meantime, nevertheless, these things which in the ancient custom of ancestors
tradita sunt tristi menere ad inferias
are handed over as a sad tribute to the rites
accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu
receive, dripping much with brotherly weeping
atque in perpetuum frater ave atque vale
And forever, brother, hail and farewell.
Our dear friend and comrade, sexual and literary inspiration, Bill Brent checked out this past weekend. "Each of us wants to hear someone shouting back as we scream into the abyss." —We hear you, Bill; we're screaming too and we hear every single word.
