Re: My translation "Evil" in /Antigone/

The holiday season has brought me an unexpected gift. This morning I
woke up too early (considering that I have to be up until past midnight
tonight), and did a search to see what of "George J. Dance" can be found
in a Google search. Less each time I search, alas, but this time I found
something new.
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One of my search results was an article titled "What Colour are
Odysseus' Words? Traces of synaesthesia in Homeric scholarship" in
/Antigone/, an open forum classics journal. The author, Alexandra
Trachsel, is Senior Lecturer in Classics at the University of Hamburg
(or was; the article is undated).
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The author begins by describing synaesthesia as "a condition where the
stimulation of one sense simultaneously triggers a reaction that makes
it seem as though a second sense has also been stimulated." She
continues:
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"A famous example is seen in the sonnet Voyelles (“Vowels”), composed by
the French poet Arthur Rimbaud (1854–91) in 1871/2:
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A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu, voyelles,
Je dirai quelque jour vos naissances latentes.
A, noir corset velu des mouches éclatantes
Qui bombillent autour des puanteurs cruelles,
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Golfes d’ombre; E, candeur des vapeurs et des tentes,
Lances des glaciers fiers, rois blancs, frissons d’ombelles;
I, pourpres, sang craché, rire des lèvres belles
Dans la colère ou les ivresses pénitentes;
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U, cycles, vibrements divins des mers virides,
Paix des pâtis semés d’animaux, paix des rides
Que l’alchimie imprime aux grands fronts studieux;
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O, suprême Clairon plein des strideurs étranges,
Silences traversés des Mondes et des Anges:
— O l’Oméga, rayon violet de Ses Yeux![2]
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"In George J. Dance’s 2015 translation this reads:
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Black A, white E, red I, green U, blue O: you vowels,
Some day I’ll tell the tale of where your mystery lies:
Black A, a jacket formed of hairy, shiny flies
That buzz among harsh stinks in the abyss’s bowels;
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White E, the white of kings, of moon-washed fogs and tents,
Of fields of shivering chervil, glaciers’ gleaming tips;
Red I, magenta, spat-up blood, the curl of lips
In laughter, hatred, or besotted penitence;
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Green U, vibrating waves in viridescent seas,
Or peaceful pastures flecked with beasts – furrows of peace
Imprinted on our brows as if by alchemies;
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Blue O, great Trumpet blaring strange and piercing cries
Through Silences where Worlds and Angels pass crosswise;
Omega, O, the violet brilliance of Those Eyes!"
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I am not sure if Dr. Trachsel found my translation on PPB, or on
Wikisource. Like all my Rimbaud translations, it is Creative Commons
licensed, which is probably why she used it without contacting me.
Whatever the case, I was quite happy to see and reread it.