Salvete! My new story is hopefully coming soon, but I was looking over my old Latin translation of Wicked, and I realized how horrible it was, so I decided to delete it and start over. I will be alternating this with my new story.
Also, would you like me to do the dialogue or just the songs?
Enjoy!
Cives Ozi:
Gaude! Rejoice!
Est mortua! She's dead!
Mala Maga est mortua! The Wicked Witch is dead!
Suus scelus magnus erat. Her wickedness was great.
Perduellis patriae Ozi erat. She was a traitor to the land of Oz.
Est mortua! She's dead!
Gaude! Rejoice!
Gaude! Rejoice!
/
Civis Ozi:
Ecce! Est Glinda! Look! It's Glinda!
/
Glinda:
Est bonum me videre, vere? It's good to see me, isn't it?
/
Cives Ozi:
Est mirum, Glinda! It's wonderful, Glinda!
/
Glinda:
Non debetis adsonare; illud fuit rhetoricum! You don't have to respond; that was rhetorical!
/
Cives Ozi, Citizens of Oz,
Sumus laeti. We are happy.
Sumus beati. We are blessed.
Gaudemus quod finali sunt: We rejoice because they're finished:
Mali facti Magae Occidentis! The wicked deeds of the Witch of the West!
Est valde bonum. It's very good.
Boni malos vincent. Good conquers evil.
Di dicunt, "Victoria!" The gods say, "Victory!"
Pro te et me! For you and me!
Pro te et me! For you and me!
Pro te et -. For you and -.
/
Civis Ozi:
Glinda! Estne depressa in patriam Plutonis? Glinda! Is she deep in the country of Hades?
/
Glinda:
Etiam. Parvam puellam de Alia Patria liquefacta est. Sic, est verum. Mala Maga Occidentis est mortua! Yes. She was melted by the little girl from the Other Country. So, it's true. The Wicked Witch of the West is dead!
/
Cives Ozi:
Nullus luget pro malis! No one cries for the wicked!
Nullus dicet, "Me miserus!" No one says, "Woe is me!"
Nullus tumulum visitat. No one visits the grave.
/
Boni malos spernent. The good scorn the wicked.
Ducent pueribus They teach the children
Praeceptos de virtutibus boni. Lessons about good virtue.
/
Glinda:
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos esse. The wicked are lonely.
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos cadere. The wicked die alone.
Sic, quando es mala, So, when you're wicked,
Semper sola es! You're always alone!
/
Cives Ozi:
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos esse. The wicked are lonely.
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos lugere. The wicked cry alone.
Mali numquam vincent: The wicked never succeed:
Di eos dant The gods give them
Poenae. Punishment.
/
Civis Ozi:
Glinda, cur erat mala? Glinda, why was she wicked?
/
Glinda:
Dubium bonum! Nascebatne mala? Aut fuscabatne? Patrem habebat, dux Pauli Patriae. A good question! Was she born wicked? Or did she corrupt? She had a father, the governor of Munchkinland.
/
Pater Magae:
Ad senatatem exeo, cara! I depart for the senate, dearest!
/
Glinda:
Matrem habebat, similis multos! She had a mother, like many!
/
Pater Magae:
Te decedo I leave you
Contra meam spontem. Against my will.
/
Mater Magae:
Bene ero I'll be fine
Nam noctem. For a night.
/
Pater Magae:
De te cogitabo, I will think of you,
Quando absens sum. When I'm gone.
/
Glinda:
Similis alias familias, res erant obscura. Like other families, things were secret.
/
Novus Princeps:
Bibe mecum, Drink with me,
Femina bella. Beautiful woman.
In noctem gaudemus. We have fun in the night.
Sic bibe mecum So drink with me
Sucum viridem, The green juice,
Et eris non eadem. And you won't be the same.
Bibe porro, puella, Drink once more, girl,
Et conveniemus. And we will make love.
/
Glinda:
Quippiam, quando nata est, erat … mira! Of course, when she was born, she was ... different!
/
Opstitrix:
Venit! Infans venit! It's coming! The baby's coming!
Ecce, nasus! Behold, a nose!
/
Pater Magae:
Ecce, puella! Behold, a girl!
/
Omni:
Est solida, sana, bella, parva – ah! She is a perfect, healthy, beautiful, little - ah!
/
Mater Magae:
Quid est? Quid est malum? What is it? What's wrong?
/
Opstitrix:
Quid est What is
/
Pater Magae:
Hoc monstrum? This monster?
/
Opstitrix:
Scelaratus! Atrocious!
/
Pater Magae:
Larva! A demon!
/
Omnes:
Similis brassicam, Like a vegetable,
Infans est viridis! The baby is green!
/
Pater Magae:
Aufer eum! Take it away!
/
Glinda:
Sic, non erat facilis. So, it wasn't easy.
/
Cives Ozi:
Nullus luget pro malis! No one cries for the wicked!
Denique est mortua! Finally she's dead!
Denique Oz est beatus! Finally Oz is happy!
/
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos esse. The wicked are lonely.
/
Glinda:
Sola fuit. She was lonely.
/
Cives Ozi:
Di sciunt The gods know
Malos solos cadere. The wicked die alone.
/
Glinda:
Sola cecidit. She died alone.
/
Cives Ozi:
Scimus We know
Iurum dirum. The law of the gods.
Est verum! It is true!
/
Nullus luget pro malis! No one cries for the wicked!
/
Glinda:
Gaude! Rejoice!
/
Cives Ozi:
Nullus luget pro malis! No one cries for the wicked!
/
Glinda:
Gaude! Rejoice!
/
Cives Ozi:
Nullus luget No one cries
Pro malis! For the wicked!
Malis! Wicked!
Mala! Wicked!
Spero te amisse! Gratias vobis ago pro legendo!
Cheers,
Elle Dottore