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author | Steve Hay <steve.m.hay@googlemail.com> | 2013-10-20 15:39:39 +0100 |
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committer | Steve Hay <steve.m.hay@googlemail.com> | 2013-10-20 15:39:39 +0100 |
commit | 4d7641667bfc1931fed55e48812aa83bfe401e65 (patch) | |
tree | 8f48e37ae0eea26c8e8edd72468be8b2e8320a5d /Porting/epigraphs.pod | |
parent | 1cd5f6726aaaf58dab89b5798e4c93b197e09b55 (diff) | |
download | perl-4d7641667bfc1931fed55e48812aa83bfe401e65.tar.gz |
Add epigraph for Perl 5.19.5
Diffstat (limited to 'Porting/epigraphs.pod')
-rw-r--r-- | Porting/epigraphs.pod | 65 |
1 files changed, 65 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/Porting/epigraphs.pod b/Porting/epigraphs.pod index 731682cce6..2063bc324e 100644 --- a/Porting/epigraphs.pod +++ b/Porting/epigraphs.pod @@ -17,6 +17,71 @@ Consult your favorite dictionary for details. =head1 EPIGRAPHS +=head2 v5.19.5 - Charles Baudelaire, "The Flowers of Evil", 51. The Cat + +L<Announced on 2013-10-20 by Steve Hay|http://www.nntp.perl.org/group/perl.perl5.porters/2013/10/msg208752.html> + +=over + + I + + A cat is strolling through my mind + Acting as though he owned the place, + A lovely cat -- strong, charming, sweet. + When he meows, one scarcely hears, + + So tender and discreet his tone; + But whether he should growl or purr + His voice is always rich and deep. + That is the secret of his charm. + + This purling voice that filters down + Into my darkest depths of soul + Fulfils me like a balanced verse, + Delights me as a potion would. + + It puts to sleep the cruellest ills + And keeps a rein on ecstasies -- + Without the need for any words + It can pronounce the longest phrase. + + Oh no, there is no bow that draws + Across my heart, fine instrument, + And makes to sing so royally + The strongest and the purest chord, + + More than your voice, mysterious cat, + Exotic cat, seraphic cat, + In whom all is, angelically, + As subtle as harmonious. + + II + + From his soft fur, golden and brown, + Goes out so sweet a scent, one night + I might have been embalmed in it + By giving him one little pet. + + He is my household's guardian soul; + He judges, he presides, inspires + All matters in hos royal realm; + Might he be fairy? or a god? + + When my eyes, to this cat I love + Drawn as by a magnet's force, + Turn tamely back from that appeal, + And when I look within myself, + + I notice with astonishment + The fire of his opal eyes, + Clear beacons glowing, living jewels, + Taking my measure, steadily. + + -- Charles Baudelaire, /The Flowers of Evil, 51. The Cat/, + trans. James McGowan + +=back + =head2 v5.19.4 - Washington Irving, "The Widow and Her Son" L<Announced on 2013-09-20 by Steve Hay|http://www.nntp.perl.org/group/perl.perl5.porters/2013/09/msg207969.html> |