These are a couple of stanzas from Joanna Newsom, a singer-songwriter. She's by far my favourite lyricist at the moment.
Whose is the hand that I will hold?
Whose is the face I will see?
Whose is the name that I will call,
when I am called to meet thee?
Cuius manus est quam tenebo?
cuius os quod videbo?
cuius nomen est quod vocebo,
cum vocata congredi ero cum te?
Stand here and name
the one you loved,
beneath the drifting ashes,
and, in naming,
rise above time,
as it, flashing, passes.
Hic sta et nomina
quendam amatum a te
sub cineribus turbatis
nominando itaque
surge supra tempus
fulgens dum exit
Well, I have sown untidy furrows
across my soul,
but I am still a coward,
content to see my garden grow
so sweet and full
of someone else's flowers.
prave aravi sulcos
per animum meum
tamen timida sum
libet mihi spectare hortum florentem
amoenissimum ac plenum florum
qui sunt alieni.
