X67107 Jun 29 1993, 5:31 am show options Newsgroups: rec.games.chess, rec.arts.poems From: - Find messages by this author Date: Tue, 29 Jun 1993 14:51:28 IDT Local: Tues, Jun 29 1993 4:51 am Subject: My name is not Caisa Reply to Author | Forward | Print | Individual Message | Show original | Report Abuse My name is not Caisa !!! Some months back I was talking on ics with another user whose name I promptly forgot. He asked me if I was the 'Player and Poet' and told me he had typed a large portion of the poem where 'Caisa' the chess muse was first introduced. He said it would be ready soon and that he would post it. Allas I have not heard from him having been recovering from ICS. I hope he can post this work soon, and that he can contact me soon via E-mail. If I have bored you to death at least I can offer some samples of the poem that I saved from our conversation. Caisa / William Jones Of armies on the chequer'd fields array'd And guiltless war in pleasing form displayed, When two bold kings contend with vain alarms, In iv'ry this, and that in ebon arms... those were the first 4 lines later daphnis brings out the chess set... He rose, and on the cedar table plac'd A polish'd board with diff'ring colours grac'd Squares eight times eight in equal order lie, These bright as snow, those dark with sable dye, like the broad target by the tortoise born, or like the hide by spotted panthers worn. then from a chest, with harmless heros stor'd, O'er the smooth plain two well wrought hosts he poured. The champions burned their rivals to assail, Twice eight in black, twice eight in milk white mail... A rather archaic style there imnsho. Nevertheless the work is clearly a masterpiece. P.S. has anyone got a listing of chess poetry/books around ?? P.S.S I have some other older pieces around as well as a most excelent chess haiku. Infact here it is in full. Chess Haiku by Wlodzimierz Holsztynski my move -- a yellow leaf rests on the h8 square sixty three for war (this haiku is copyrighted !! do not steal it *<:-)$ ) P.S.S.S. ICS (Internet chess server) can be reached by telnet at adress Cirrus.gp.cs.cmu.edu 5000 and there is a lso a server in the Europe P.S.S.S.S I don't want anymore E-mail game offers right now thank-you-very-much. ------- Oren Bochman (Player & Poet) X67...@barilvm.biu.ac.il Not just another game of chess For the chequered board was shattered No more boundaries the mind opress The pieces all lost and scattered. Melodies Unkown / Oren Bochman X67107 Jun 30 1993, 12:05 pm show options Newsgroups: rec.games.chess, rec.arts.poems From: - Find messages by this author Date: Wed, 30 Jun 1993 20:29:51 IDT Local: Wed, Jun 30 1993 10:29 am Subject: Re: My name is not Caisa Reply to Author | Forward | Print | Individual Message | Show original | Report Abuse Mike Holcomb, has typed up Caissa. Many thanks to him. As he cannot post it to rec.games.chess I post it instead. ******************************************************************************** From: _Poems Consisting Chiefly of Translations from the Asiatic Languages_ By: Sir William Jones From the Preface: "It will be needless, I hope, to apologize for the _Pastoral_, and the poem upon _Chess_, which were done as early as at the age of sixteen or seventeen years, and were saved from the fire, in preference to a great many others, because they seemed more correctly versified than the rest." Advertisement: "The first idea of the following piece was taken from a Latin poem of Vida, entitled _Scacchia Ludus_, which was translated into Italian by Marino, and inserted into the fifteenth Canto of his Adonis: the author thought it fair to make an acknowledgment in the notes for the passages, which he borrowed from those two poets; but he must also do them the justice to declare, that most of the description, and the whole story of Caissa, which is written in imitation of Ovid, are his own, and their faults must be imputed to him only. The characters in the poem are no less imaginary that those in the episode; in which the invention of Chess is poetically ascribed to Mars, though it is certain that the game was originally brought from India. ******************************************************************************** CAISSA, or, THE GAME AT CHESS, A POEM. Written in the Year 1763. Of armies on the checkered field arrayed, And guiltless war in pleasing form displayed, When two bold kings contend with vain alarms, In Ivory this, and that in ebon arms, Sing, sportive maids, that haunt the sacred hill Of Pindus, and the famed Pierian rill. Thou, joy of all below, and all above, Mild Venus, queen of laughter, queen of love, Leave thy bright island, where on many a rose, And many a pink thy blooming train repose: Assist me, goddess! Since a lovely pair Command my song, like thee divinely fair. Near yon cool stream, whose living waters play, And rise translucent in the solar ray, Beneath the cover of a fragrant bower, Where spring's soft influence purpled every flower, Two beauteous nymphs reclined in calm retreat, And envying blossoms crowded 'round their feet; Here Delia was enthroned, and by her side The sweet Sirena, both in beauty's pride: Thus shine two roses, fresh with early bloom, That from their native stalk dispense perfume, Their leaves unfolding to the dawning day, Gems of the glowing mead, and eyes of May. A band of youths and damsels sat around, Their flowing locks with wreaths of myrtle bound, Agatis, in the graceful dance admired, And gentle Thyrsis, by the muse inspired, With Sylvia, fairest of the mirthful train, And Daphnis, doomed to love, yet love in vain. Now, whilst a purer blush overspreads her cheeks, With soothing accents thus Sirena speaks: "The meads and lawns are tinged with beamy light, And wakeful larks begin their vocal flight, Whilst on each bank the dewdrops sweetly smile; What sport my Delia, shall the hours beguile? Shall heavenly notes, prolonged with various art, Charm the fond ear, and warm the rapturous heart? At distance shall we view the sylvan chase? Or catch with silken lines the finny race?" Then Delia thus: "Or rather, since we meet By chance assembled in this cool retreat, In artful contest let our warlike train Move well-directed over the colored plain; Daphnis, who taught us first, the play shall guide, Explain its laws, and over the field preside: No prize we need, our ardor to inflame, We fight with pleasure, if we fight for fame." The nymph consents: the maids and youths prepare To view the combat, and the sport to share; But Daphnis most approved the bold design, Whom love instructed, and the tuneful Nine. He rose, and on the cedar table placed A polished board with differing colors graced, Squares eight times eight in equal order lie, These bright as snow, those dark with sable dye, Like the broad target of a tortoise born, Or like the hide by spotted panthers worn. Then from a chest, with harmless heros stored, Over the smooth plain two well-wrought hosts he poured; The champions burned their rivals to assail, Twice eight in black, twice eight in milkwhite mail; In shape and station different, as in name, Their motions various, nor their powers the same. Say muse! (for Jove has nought from thee concealed) Who formed the legions on the level field? High in the midst the reverend kings appear, And over the rest their pearly scepters rear: With solemn steps, majestically slow, They gravely move, and shun the dangerous foe; If ever they call, the watchful subjects spring, And die with rapture if they save their king, On him the glory of the day depends, He once imprisoned, all the conflict ends. The queens exulting near their consorts stand, Each bears a deadly falchion in her hand; Now here, now there, they bound with furious pride, And thin the trembling ranks from side to side, Swift as Camilla flying over the main, Or lightly skimming over the dewy plain: Fierce as they seem, some bold Plebian spear May pierce their shield, or stop their full career. The valiant guards, their minds on havoc bent, Fill the next squares, and watch the royal tent; Though weak their spears, though dwarfish be their height, Compact they move, the bulwark of the fight. To right and left the martial wings display Their shining arms, and stand in close array. Behold four archers, eager to advance, Send the light reed, and rush with sidelong glance, Through angles ever they assault their foes, True to the color, which at first they chose. Then four bold knights for courage famed and speed, Each knight exalted on a prancing steed: Their arching course no vulgar limit knows, Transverse they leap, and aim insidious blows: Nor friends, nor foes, their rapid force restrain, By one quick bound two changing squares they gain; From varying hues renew the fierce attack, And rush from black to white, from white to black. Four solemn elephants the sides defend; Beneath the load of ponderous towers they bend: In one unaltered line they tempt the fight, Now crush the left, and now overwhelm the right. Bright in the front the dauntless soldiers raise Their polished spears; their steely helmets blaze: Prepared they stand the daring foe to strike, Direct their progress, but their wound oblique. Now swell the embattled troops with hostile rage, And clang their shields, impatient to engage; When Daphnis thus: "A varied plain behold, Where fairy kings their mimic tents unfold, As Oberon, and Mab, his wayward queen, Lead forth their armies on the daisied green. No mortal hand the wondrous sport contrived, By Gods invented, and from Gods derived, From them the British nymphs received the game, And play each morn beneath the crystal Thame; Hear then the tale, which they to Colin sung, As idling over the lucid wave he hung." "A lovely dryad ranged the Thracian wild, Her air enchanting, and her aspect mild; To chase the bounding hart was all her joy, Averse from Hymen, and the Cyprian boy; Over hills and valleys was her beauty famed, And fair Caissa was the damsel named. Mars saw the maid; with deep surprise he gazed, Admired her shape, and every gesture praised: His golden bow the child of Venus bent, And through his breast a piercing arrow sent: The reed was Hope; the feathers keen Desire; The point, her eyes; the barbs, ethereal fire. Soon to the nymph he poured his tender strain; The haughty Dryad scorned his amorous pain: He told his woes, wherever the maid he found, And still he pressed, yet still Caissa frowned, But even her frowns (ah, what might smiles have done!) Fired all his soul, and all his senses won. He left his car, by raging tigers drawn, And lonely, wandered over the dusky lawn; Then lay desponding near a murmuring stream, And fair Caissa was his plaintive theme. A Naiad heard him from her mossy bed, And through the crystal raised her placid head; Then mildly spake: 'O thou, whom love inspires, Thy tears will nourish, not allay thy fires. The smiling blossoms drink the pearly dew; And ripening fruit the feathered race pursue; The scaly shoals devour the silken weeds; Love on our sighs, and on our sorrow feeds. Then weep no more; but ere thou canst obtain Balm to thy wounds, and solace to thy pain, With gentle art thy martial look beguile; Be mild; and teach thy rugged brow to smile. Canst thou no play, no soothing game devise To make thee lovely in the damsel's eyes? So may thy prayers assuage the scornful dame, And even Caissa own a mutual flame.' 'Kind nymph,' said Mars, 'thy counsel I approve; Art, only art, her ruthless breast can move. But when? Or how? Thy dark discourse explain: So may thy stream never swell with gushing rain; So may thy waves in one pure current flow, And flowers eternal on thy border blow!' To whom the maid replied with smiling mien: 'Above the palace of the Paphian queen Love's brother dwells, a boy of graceful port, By gods named Euphron, and by mortals, Sport: Seek him; to faithful ears unfold thy grief, And hope, ere morn return, a sweet relief. His temple hangs below the azure skies; Seest thou yon argent cloud? 'Tis there it lies.' This said, she sunk beneath the liquid plain, And sought the mansion of her blue-haired train. Meantime the god, elate with heart-felt joy, Had reached the temple of the sportful boy; He told Caissa's charms, his kindled fire, The Naiad's counsel, and his warm desire. 'Be swift,' he added, 'give my passion aid; A god requests.'---He spake, and Sport obeyed. He framed a tablet of celestial mold, Inlayed with squares of silver and of gold; Then of two metals formed the warlike band, That here compact in show of battle stand; He taught the rules that guide the pensive game, And called it Caissa from the Dryad's name: (Whence Albion's sons, who most its praise confess, Approved the play, and named it thoughtful Chess.) The god delighted thanked indulgent Sport, Then grasped the board, and left his airy court. With radiant feet he pierced the clouds; nor stayed, Till in the woods he saw the beauteous maid: Tired with the chase, the damsel sat reclined, Her girdle loose, her bosom unconfined. He took the figure of a wanton Faun, And stood before her on the flowery lawn, Then showed his tablet: pleased the nymph surveyed The lifeless troops in glittering ranks displayed; She asked the wily sylvan to explain The various motions of the splendid train; With eager heart she caught the winning lore, And thought even Mars less hateful than before: 'What spell,' said she, 'deceived my careless mind? The god was fair, and I was most unkind.' She spoke, and saw the changing Faun assume A milder aspect, and a fairer bloom; His wreathing horns, that from his temples grew, Flowed down in curls of bright celestial hue; The dappled hairs, that veiled his loveless face, Blazed into beams, and showed a heavenly grace; The shaggy hide, that mantled over his breast, Was softened to a smooth transparent vest, That through its folds his vigorous bosom showed, And nervous limbs, where youthful ardour glowed; (Had Venus viewed him in those blooming charms, Not Vulcan's ned had forced her from his arms.) With goatlike feet no more he marked the ground, But braided flowers his silken sandals bound. The Dryad blushed; and, as he pressed her, smiled, Whilst all his cares one tender glance beguiled." He ends: "To arms," the maids and striplings cry, "To arms" the groves, and souding vales reply. Sirena led to war the swarthy crew, And Delia those, that bore the lily's hue. Who first, O muse, began the bold attack, The white refulgent, or the mournful black? Fair Delia first, as favoring lots ordain, Moves her pale legions toward the sable train: From thought to thought her lively fancy flies, Whilst over the board she darts her sparkling eyes. At length the warrior moves with haughty strides, Who from the plain the snowy king divides: With equal haste his swarthy rival bounds; His quiver rattles, and his buckler sounds: Ah! hapless youths, with fatal warmth you burn; Laws, ever fixed, forbid you to return. Then from the wing a short-lived spearman flies, Unsafely bold, and see! he dies, he dies: The dark-browed hero with one vengeful blow Of life and place deprived his ivory foe. Now rush both armies over the burnished field, Hurl the swift dart, and rend the bursting shield. Here furious knights on fiery coursers prance, Here archers spring, and lofty towers advance. But see! the white-robed Amazon beholds Where the dark host its opening van unfolds: Soon as her eye discerns the hostile maid, By ebon shield and ebon helm betrayed, Seven squares she passes with majestic mien, And stands triumphant over the falling queen. Perplexed, and sorrowing at his consort's fate, The monarch burned with rage, despair, and hate: Swift from his zone the avenging blade he drew, And, mad with ire, the proud virago slew. Meanwhile sweet-smiling Delia's wary king Retired from fight behind his circling wing. Long time the war in equal balance hung; Till, unforeseen, an ivory courser sprung, And, wildly prancing in an evil hour, Attacked at once the monarch, and the tower: Sirena blushed; for as the rules required, Her injured sovereign to his tent retired; Whilst her lost castle leaves his threatening height, And adds new glory to the exulting knight. At this, pale fear oppressed the drooping maid, And on her cheeks the rose began to fade: A crystal tear, that stood prepared to fall, She wiped in silence, and concealed from all; From all but Daphnis: he remarked her pain, And saw the weakness of her ebon train; Then gently spoke: "Let me your loss supply, And either nobly win, or nobly die; Me oft has fortune crowned with fair success, And led to truimph in the fields of Chess." He said: the willing nymph her place resigned, And sat at distance on the bank reclined. Thus when Minerva called her chief to arms, And Troy's high turret shook with dire alarms, The Cyprian goddess wounded left the plain, And Mars engaged a mightier force in vain. Straight Daphnis leads his squadron to the field, (To Delia's arms 'tis even a joy to yield.) Each guileful snare, and subtle art he tries, But finds his art less powerful than her eyes: Wisdom and strength superior charms obey; And beauty, beauty wins the long-fought day. By this a hoary chief, on slaughter bent, Approached the gloomy king's unguarded tent, Where, late, his consort spread dismay around, Now her dark corpse lies bleeding on the ground. Hail, happy youth! Thy glories not unsung Shall live eternal on the poets tongue; For thou shalt soon receive a splendid change, And over the plain with nobler fury range. The swarthy leaders saw the storm impend, And strove in vain their sovereign to defend: The invader waved his silver lance in air, And flew like lightning to the fatal square, His limbs dilated in a moment grew To stately height, and widened to the view; More fierce his look, more lion-like his mien, Sublime he moved, and seemed a warrior queen. As when the sage on some unfolding plant Has caught a wandering fly, or frugal ant, His hand the microscopic frame applies, And lo! A bright-haired monster meets his eyes; He sees new plumes in slender cases rolled, Here stained with azure, there bedropped with gold; Thus on the altered chief both armies gaze, And both the kings are fixed with deep amaze. The sword which armed the snow-white maid before, He now assumes, and hurls the spear no more; Then springs indignant on the dark-robed band, And knight, and archers feel his deadly hand. Now flies the monarch of the sable shield, His legions vanquished, over the lonely field: So when the morn, by rosy coursers drawn, With pearls and rubies flows the verdant lawn, Whilst each pale star from heavens blue vault retires, Still Venus gleams, and last of all expires. He hears, wherever he moves, the dreadful sound; "Check" the deep vales, and "Check" the woods rebound. No place remains: he sees a certain fate, And yields his throne to ruin, and Checkmate. A brighter blush overspreads the damsel's cheeks, And mildly thus the conquered stripling speaks: "A double triumph, Delia, thou hast won, By Mars protected, and by Venus' son; The first with conquest crowns thy matchless art, The second points those eyes at Daphnis' heart." She smiled; the nymphs and amorous youths arise, And own, that beauty gained the nobler prize. Low in their chest the mimic troops were layed, And peaceful slept the sable hero's shade. ------- Oren Bochman (Player & Poet) X67...@barilvm.biu.ac.il Not just another game of chess For the chequered board was shattered No more boundaries the mind opress The pieces all lost and scattered. Melodies Unkown / Oren Bochman