poetry

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poetry

1tonikat
Modifié : Fév 7, 2017, 6:14 am

We used to have a poetry thread I think -- others', our own, thoughts or links on it, whatever, as occasionally as you see fit, if you do at all.

This morning I read this article https://www.wsj.com/articles/im-nobody-who-are-you-the-life-and-poetry-of-emily-...

and then read this again:




Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps —
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs —
How many trips the Tortoise makes —
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite —
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?

Emily Dickinson, c1859 (J128)

2baswood
Fév 8, 2017, 6:07 pm

Great to see a poetry thread and what an excellent start with Emily Dickinson

3dchaikin
Modifié : Fév 8, 2017, 10:30 pm

Enjoyed that Dickinson.

4tonikat
Modifié : Mar 26, 2017, 8:31 am

Bathed and Washed

'Bathed in fragrance,
do not brush your hat;
Washed in perfume,
do not wash your coat:

'Knowing the world
fears what is too pure,
the wisest man
prizes and stores light!'

By Bluewater
an old angler sat:
You and I together,
let us go home.

Li Bai (trans. Arthur Cooper)

5baswood
Sep 24, 2017, 1:58 pm

OK lets have some George Gascoigne:

SING lullaby, as women do,
Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;
And lullaby can I sing too,
As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child;
And if I be not much beguiled,
Full many a wanton babe have I,
Which must be still'd with lullaby.

First lullaby my youthful years,
It is now time to go to bed:
For crooked age and hoary hairs
Have won the haven within my head.
With lullaby, then, youth be still;
With lullaby content thy will;
Since courage quails and comes behind,
Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind!

Next lullaby my gazing eyes,
Which wonted were to glance apace;
For every glass may now suffice
To show the furrows in thy face.
With lullaby then wink awhile;
With lullaby your looks beguile;
Let no fair face, nor beauty bright,
Entice you eft with vain delight.

And lullaby my wanton will;
Let reason's rule now reign thy thought;
Since all too late I find by skill
How dear I have thy fancies bought;
With lullaby now take thine ease,
With lullaby thy doubts appease;
For trust to this, if thou be still,
My body shall obey thy will.

Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes,
My will, my ware, and all that was:
I can no more delays devise;
But welcome pain, let pleasure pass.
With lullaby now take your leave;
With lullaby your dreams deceive;
And when you rise with waking eye,
Remember then this lullaby.
George Gascoigne

Praise Of The Fair Bridges, Afterwards Lady Sandes, On Her Having A Scar In Her Forehead -

In court whoso demaundes
What dame doth most excell;
For my conceit I must needes say,
Faire Bridges beares the bel.

Upon whose lively cheeke,
To prove my judgement true,
The rose and lilie seeme to strive
For equall change of hewe.

And therewithall so well
Hir graces all agree,
No frowning chere dare once presume
In hir sweet face to bee.

Although some lavishe lippes,
Which like some other best,
Will say the blemishe on hir browe
Disgracefull all the rest.

Thereto I thus replie:
God wotte, they little knowe
The hidden cause of that mishap,
Nor how the harm did growe;

For when Dame Nature first
Had framde hir heavenly face,
And thoroughly bedecked it
With goodly gleames of grace;

It lyked hir so well:
'Lo here,' quod she, 'a peece
For perfect shape that passeth all
Appelles' worke in Greec.e

'This bayt may chaunce to catche
The greatest god of love,
Or mightie thundring Jove himself,
That rules the roast above.'

But out, alas! those words
Were vaunted all in vayne;
And some unseen were present there,
Pore Bridges, to thy pain.

For Cupide, crafty boy,
Close in a corner stoode,
Not blyndfold then, to gaze on hir:
I gesse it did him good.

Yet when he felte the flame
Gan kindle in his brest,
And herd Dame Nature boast by hir
To break him of his rest,

His hot newe-chosen love
He chaunged into hate,
And sodenlye with mightie mace
Gan rap hir on the pate.

It greeved Nature muche
To see the cruell deede:
Mee seemes I see hir, how she wept
To see hir dearling bleede.

'Wel yet,' quod she, 'this hurt
Shal have some helpe I trowe;'
And quick with skin she covered it,
That whiter is than snowe.

Wherwith Dan Cupide fled,
For feare of further flame,
When angel-like he saw hir shine,
Whome he had smit with shame.

Lo, thus was Bridges hurt
In cradel of hir kind.
The coward Cupide brake hir browe
To wreke his wounded mynd.

The skar still there remains;
No force, there let it bee:
There is no cloude that can eclipse
So bright a sunne as she.
George Gascoigne

6janeajones
Oct 5, 2017, 11:40 am

Love the Lullaby poem.

7dchaikin
Déc 17, 2017, 12:37 pm

James Wright : Father

In paradise I poised my foot above the boat and said:
Who prayed for me?
                              But only the dip of an oar
In water sounded; slowly fog from some cold shore
Circled in wreaths around my head.

But who is waiting?
                              And the wind began,
Transfiguring my face from nothingness
To tiny weeping eyes. And when my voice
Grew real, there was a place
Far, far below the earth. There was a tiny man—

It was my father wandering round the waters at the warf
Irritably he circled and he called
Out to the marine currents up and down,
But heard only a cold unmeaning cough,
And saw the oarsmen in the mist enshawled.

He drew me from the boat. I was asleep.
And we went home together.

8haydninvienna
Oct 25, 2018, 3:46 pm

I just have to post this somewhere or I’ll burst.
I said in another group that long flights were for reading. Yesterday I was on a flight and listened to Robert Speaight reading this:

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half heard, in the stillness
Between the two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always--
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of things shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.”

I cannot read Four Quartets aloud, it’s just not physically possible.Every time I end up tearing up with my voice cracking.

Interesting how I never really felt I understood “Little Gidding” until I heard it read aloud.

9edwinbcn
Avr 13, 2021, 12:06 pm

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10edwinbcn
Juil 21, 2021, 3:28 am

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