Tuba, mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionum,
Coget omnes ante thronum.
Wondrous sound, the trumpet flingeth,
Through earth’s sepulchres it ringeth,
All before the throne it bringeth.
We have to remember that the moment will come – and it is not a moment over which we will have any control – when everything will finally focus, for eternity, on what we have actually done . . . and when that moment arrives it will be too late for us to change anything : the seed is sown.
I don't like ''poetic'' translations of Latin hymnody because they do not translate the words faithfully. This says ''A trumpet, spreading out a marvellous sound/through the tombs of the regions/will compel all before the throne.''
ReplyDeleteYou make a very cogent point about death, and the irreversability of our actions, for good or ill, though.