The Stars and the Cookie Jar

[Wannit!!]

Damn you, Gollancz, damn you to crunchy, stale, decaff-on-the-side purgatory. It's out in paperback in the UK, fergawds!

* title: a Francophone child says this when wailing and pointing desperately and red-faced to something out of reach.

Delivered best, to this date, by Aiain Byrne, at age 4.5; therefore I left it in French. Spray some cookie crumbs around for good measure as you wail it.

( Pome! (lines 30something-45 in Latin, 40-59 in Fitzgerald; shut up, Fitzgerald!) )

No, I did not start at the beginning of the poem. I started with the man who raped Kassandra where she sought sanctuary,  and what happened to him. (Oooh, imagine the salt water in that wound.)

Besides, everyone does the first line differently, and I want to be sure of the Latin before I make the attempt in English.

Since talking with The Classicist, changed the names back to the Latinate versions and added a bit. But all in all, it was very gently well-received, and I think I'll go on with it.