17 OCTOBER 1952, Page 20

SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 137 Report by J. M. Cohen The

usual prizes were offered for a translation of Theophile de Viau's Ode—" Un corbeau devant moi croasse," in the same metre and following the same rhyme scheme.

I have given the first prize of £3 to Adrian Collins, whose poem is delightfully economical. One pitfall in translating from the French seems to be that of padding ; the meaning of the original can usually be transmitted in fewer syllables than the French poet has used. The second prize of £2 goes to H. A. C. Evans, whose poem only falls behind Mr. Collins's in a few small points. I think, for instance, that he has been less successful with the key rhyme of lines 7 and 10, and I am dubious about his cliche in line 14. Besides Mr. Kennard Davis, the following competitors deserve honourable mention for their solutions of what, for the setter, has been a very pleasant competition : P. A. T. O'Donnell, Nancy Gunter, Olive M. Wilson and Kenneth S. Kitchin.

PRIZES

(ADRIAN COLLINS)

In front of me there croaks a crow ; A shadow falls, my eyes are dim ; Two weasels and two foxes skim Across the pathway as I go ; My horse's feet begin to slip ; My lackey falls down in a fit ; I hear the crackling thunder's birth ; A ghost before my eyes appears ; The voice of Charon strikes my ears ; I see the centre of the earth.

The stream is rising from the lake ; Up to the steeple climbs an ox, And blood is trickling from the rocks ; A she-bear couples with a snake ; Upon the ancient tower, up there, A serpent's fangs a vulture tear ; A fire is burning in the ice ; Blackness has blotted out the sun ; The moon is threatening to crash down ; That tree has just moved from its place.

(H. A. C. Evans) A raven croaks in front of me, A shadow wraps my eyes in gloom ; Two weasels and two foxes loom Across my pathway, silently ; My horse now falters in his tread, Down falls my lackey, like the dead ; I hear the crackling thunder hurled ; There comes an apparition drear ; And Charon's summoning I hear, I see the centre of the world.

This stream is flowing to its spring ; Upon this steeple climbs an ox ; Here blood flows gushing from the rocks ; She-bear and asp in Venus cling ; High on an ancient tower, apart, A serpent rends a vulture's heart ; Fire burns, enclosed in ice around ; The sun grows black as any pall ; 1 see the moon about to fall ; This tree has started from the ground.