The Poetry Corner: What Library

[ne1GotZardoz]

Originally posted by Skweeky@17 May 2003 - 07:33
The poem describes a beatiful valley. Very nice, peaceful. There's a little rivers, flowers, soft grass and there is someone lying next to the river. He seems to be happy, looks undisturbed. The you take a closer look. The person is a soldier lying, there, dead, with three shotwounds in his chest....

The first three strophes describe the state of the valley and the way we see the soldier. The last strophe says (roughly translated)
'The perfumes do not make his nose tremble
He sleeps in the sun, his hands on his chest
Calm.He has three red holes in his right side'

Thanks,

It makes me wish I had learned French in school, to be able to read it in the language it was written, with understanding.

Peace

[botts]

e.e. cummings has always had a special place in my life

when god decided to invent
everything he took one
breath bigger than a circustent
and everything began

when man determined to destroy
himself he picked the was
of shall and finding only why
smashed it into because

i also wrote a lot of stuff of my own...but havent written anything for some years now...maybe will post some of my older stuff later

botts

[Skweeky]

TOERISME

We zagen de spraakwatervallen van Speed,
hangende tuinen, verre sterrebeelden
die toch nabijer dan medereizigers waren.

In een bus vol naasten bezochten we
en werden bezocht door nachtmerries,
visioenen van heiligen en engelen
zongen ons doof en we ontwaakten
in hotel Harmonie.

Twee spiegels, tegenover elkaar geplaatst
boden ons een oneindig perspectief.

En toch, dacht ik, er moet méér zijn.


Jotie 't Hooft

I'll try to translate it a bit:

We saw the waterfalls of speech of Speed,
hanging gardens, distant constellations
that were closer than our fellow travelers

In a bus full of fellow men, we visited
and were visited by nightmares
visions of saints and angels
made us deaf by singing and we woke up
in hotel Harmony

Two mirrors, put towards each other
offered us an endless perspective

And yet, I thought, there must be more...



Jotie 't Hooft is a Dutch poet, he died when he was 21 because of an overdose of heroin or cocain...

[ne1GotZardoz]

I don't know how accurate the translation is, but it works for me.

Heroin? Very possible. That seems to give those types of visions.

Remember Poe?

[Curley]

Slightly different to what you guys are talking about but heres a meaninful poem. So true....

50 Years From Now

There once was a place called Salem
Where girls lived deep in fear
Of being accused of witches brews
Then knowing death was near.

Another time in Georgia
When black men had no rights
They were beaten up and degraded
With so many sleepless nights.

And most recently it's the gay men
Who have proudly proclaimed "it's time!"
That love from man to man
Be simply not a crime.

There was a place called Auschewitz
Where Polish and Jews were gassed
It's a very sad reminder
Of how very cruel our past.

And can you believe that women
Were not allowed to read?
They could not vote or think freely
They existed merely to please.

And now the time we live in
It's just the same you see
Animals are the slaves and women
Longing to be free!

There is but just one difference
For animals have no voice.
They cannot band together
They simply have no choice!

They must follow all our orders
Die for many meals
They give their lives for research
And have no courts from which to appeal.

They are stuck inside the evil trap
of peoples compassionless views.
Animal lovers are their only hope
Of spreading this vital news....

Animals do have feelings!
The feel loneliness and pain!
We must love and respect them!
We'll all have much to gain!

So let us come together
And fight for this huge cause
For we are their last chance
To change our current laws.

Lets not waste our time on hunters
Or argue with the blind
Lets focus on the children
And educate their minds.

If we can teach compassion
as Liz C. Stanton did long ago
Then animals can have a future
And a culture of compassion can grow.

And so my friends, I leave you
With just one thought in mind
The suffering of the animals
Is caused by humankind.

Humans have a past of cruelty
As the slaves and women knew
But with time and education
Civility slowly grew.

And so I pray to heaven
That 50 years from now
Animal suffering will be nonexistent
And people will look back and think HOW?

[Tikibonbon]

There were times when i needed you
and you were not there
There were times when i didn't need you
and you were there
But all that is overshadowed by the times
I needed you and you were there

Joven


BTW, why can i no longer find Joven's work anymore?

[tianup]

@ botts - Cummings is one of my favorites as well, and that's always been one of my faves of his - here's another...


in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me


-e. e. cummings

[Bass]

simon armitage

[Bass]

I am very bothered when I think
of the bad things that I have done in my life.
Not least that time in the chemistry lab
when I held a pair of scissors by the blades
and played the handles
in the naked lilac flame of the Bunsen burner;
then called your name, and handed them over.
O the unrivalled stench of branded skin
as you slipped your thumb and middle finger in,
then couldn't shake off the two burning rings. Marked,
the doctor said, for eternity.
Don't believe me, please, if I say
that was just my butterfingered way, at thirteen,
of asking you to marry me.

[Bass]

Anyone here had a go at themselves for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark at the back, listen hard. Those at the front in the know, those of us who have, hands up, let's show that inch of lacerated skin between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck. A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs. A likely story: you were lashed by brambles picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good, repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood' when those at the back rush forward to say how a little love goes a long long long way.