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Favourite poems

Discussion in 'The Cave' started by Gagnrad, Jun 29, 2015.

  1. Gagnrad

    Gagnrad New Member

    Grau, teurer Freund, ist alle Theorie,
    Und grün des Lebens goldner Baum.

    Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
    b612 likes this.
  2. b612

    b612 New Member

    Big nose.
  3. b612

    b612 New Member

    You give me German.
    I give you French.
    You will love this one.

    Robert Desnos

    Corps et biens

    J'ai tant rêvé de toi que tu perds ta réalité.
    Est-il encore temps d'atteindre ce corps vivant
    Et de baiser sur cette bouche la naissance
    De la voix qui m'est chère?

    J'ai tant rêvé de toi que mes bras habitués
    En étreignant ton ombre
    A se croiser sur ma poitrine ne se plieraient pas
    Au contour de ton corps, peut-être.
    Et que, devant l'apparence réelle de ce qui me hante
    Et me gouverne depuis des jours et des années,
    Je deviendrais une ombre sans doute.
    O balances sentimentales.

    J'ai tant rêvé de toi qu'il n'est plus temps
    Sans doute que je m'éveille.
    Je dors debout, le corps exposé
    A toutes les apparences de la vie
    Et de l'amour et toi, la seule
    qui compte aujourd'hui pour moi,
    Je pourrais moins toucher ton front
    Et tes lèvres que les premières lèvres
    et le premier front venu.

    J'ai tant rêvé de toi, tant marché, parlé,
    Couché avec ton fantôme
    Qu'il ne me reste plus peut-être,
    Et pourtant, qu'a être fantôme
    Parmi les fantômes et plus ombre
    Cent fois que l'ombre qui se promène
    Et se promènera allègrement
    Sur le cadran solaire de ta vie.


    I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real.
    Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make your dear voice come alive again?

    I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.
    For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

    O scales of feeling.

    I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.
    I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who counts for me today,
    I can no more touch your face and lips than touch the lips and face of some passerby.

    I have dreamed of you so much, have walked so much, talked so much, slept so much with your phantom,
    that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom among phantoms,
    a shadow a hundred times more shadow than the shadow that moves
    and goes on moving, brightly, over the sundial of your life.
  4. notsoperfick

    notsoperfick New Member

    Just Home and Love! the words are small
    Four little letters unto each;
    And yet you will not find in all
    The wide and gracious range of speech
    Two more so tenderly complete:
    When angels talk in Heaven above,
    I'm sure they have no words more sweet
    Than Home and Love.

    Just Home and Love! it's hard to guess
    Which of the two were best to gain;
    Home without Love is bitterness;
    Love without Home is often pain.
    No! each alone will seldom do;
    Somehow they travel hand and glove:
    If you win one you must have two,
    Both Home and Love.

    And if you've both, well then I'm sure
    You ought to sing the whole day long;
    It doesn't matter if you're poor
    With these to make divine your song.
    And so I praisefully repeat,
    When angels talk in Heaven above,
    There are no words more simply sweet
    Than Home and Love.

    Robert William Service
  5. b612

    b612 New Member

    I see
    You literally died.
  6. b612

    b612 New Member

    Wake up, man. It's not that bad.

    Last night I didn't sleep for obvious reasons and remembered a good book that I liked very much when I was little.
    "I klockarnas tid" it is called in Swedish.
    "In the Time of the Bells"
    by Maria Gripe

    They forgot to include it into children's literature course, of course.
    Do you know it?
  7. Gagnrad

    Gagnrad New Member

    Sorry, I've been busy with other things.

    No, it's not one I know. My niece's favourite children's books are the Alice books. Do you like those? Were they covered in the course?
  8. notsoperfick

    notsoperfick New Member

    Anger in its time and place
    May assume a kind of grace.
    It must have some reason in it,
    And not last beyond a minute.
    If to further lengths it go,
    It does into malice grow.
    'Tis the difference that we see
    'Twixt the serpent and the bee.
    If the latter you provoke,
    It inflicts a hasty stroke,
    Puts you to some little pain,
    But it never stings again.
    Close in tufted bush or brake
    Lurks the poison-swellëd snake
    Nursing up his cherished wrath;
    In the purlieux of his path,
    In the cold, or in the warm,
    Mean him good, or mean him harm,
    Whensoever fate may bring you,
    The vile snake will always sting you.

    Charles Lamb
    b612 likes this.
  9. b612

    b612 New Member


Die Blätter fallen, fallen wie von weit,
    als welkten in den Himmeln ferne Gärten;
    sie fallen mit verneinender Gebärde.

    Und in den Nächten fällt die schwere
aus allen Sternen in die Einsamkeit.
    Wir allen fallen.

    Diese Hand da fällt.
    Und sieh dir andre an: es ist in allen.
    Und doch ist einer, welcher dieses

undendlich sanft
    in seinen Händen hält.

    Rainer Maria Rilke


    Bitte, geh nicht fort.
  10. b612

    b612 New Member

    Knock knock.

    Is there anybody here?

    I'm very busy with my studies. But I'm also very into this today

    Welcome. Ladies and Gentlemen, you are about to see a story of
    murder, greed, corruption, violence, exploitation, adultery,
    and treachery - all those things we all hold near and dear to
    our hearts. Thank you.


    Come on, Babe
    Why don't we paint the town?
    And All That Jazz

    I'm gonna rouge my knees
    And roll my stockings down
    And All That Jazz.

    Start the car
    I know a whoopee spot
    Where the gin is cold
    but the piano's hot
    It's just a noisy hall
    Where there's a nightly brawl
    And All

    [Dance break]

    Slick your hair
    And wear your buckle shoes
    And All That Jazz!

    I hear that father dip
    Is gonna blow the blues
    And All That Jazz

    Hold on, hon
    We're gonna bunny hug
    I bought some Aspirin
    Down at United Drug

    In case you shake apart
    And want a brand-new start
    To do that -

    Velma & Company:


    And All That Jazz


    And All That Jazz

    Hah! Hah! Hah!

    It's just a noisy hall
    Where there's a nightly brawl

    And all that Jazz

    (Fred Casely and Roxie Hart enter)

    Listen, your husband ain't home, is he?
    No, her husband is not at home!
    Find a flask
    We're playing fast and loose

    And All That Jazz!

    Right up here
    Is where I store the juice

    And All That Jazz!

    Come on babe
    We're gonna brush the sky
    I bet you lucky Lindy
    Never flew so high
    'Cause in the stratosphere
    How could he lend an ear
    To All That Jazz

    Oh, you're gonna see her sheba shimmy shake

    And All That Jazz!

    Oh, she's gonna shimmy till her garters break

    And All That Jazz

    Show her where to park her girdle
    Oh, her mother's blood is curdle
    If she'd hear
    Her baby's queer
    For All That Jazz!

    Velma: Company:
    And All That Jazz!
    Come on, Babe Oh, you're gonna see
    Why don't we paint Your
    The town? Sheba
    And All That Jazz Shimmy shake
    And All That Jazz!

    I'm gonna Oh,
    Rouge my knees She's gonna shimmy
    And roll my 'Till her garters
    Stockings down Break
    And All That Jazz And All That Jazz

    Start the car Show her where to
    I know a whoopee spot Park her girdle
    Where the gin is cold Oh, her mother's blood'd
    But the piano's hot. Curdle
    It's just a noisy hall If she'd hear
    Where there's a nightly brawl Her baby's queer
    And All That Jazz! For All That Jazz!

    So, that's it, huh Fred?
    Yeah, I'm afraid so Roxie.
    Oh, Fred...
    Oh, Fred...
    Nobody walks out on me.

    (Roxie shoots him.)

    Sweetheart -
    Oh, don't "sweetheart" me, you son-of-a-bitch!

    (Roxie shoots him again. Fred dies.)

    Oh, I gotta pee.

    (Roxie exits.)

    No, I'm no one's wife
    But, oh, I love my life
    And All That Jazz!

    That Jazz!
  11. Gagnrad

    Gagnrad New Member

    This lyric is sung by Desdemona in Othello, of course.


    I like the alliteration - the poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree …

    Old English poetry used alliteration extensively. But for a long time, until recent times, one of the main poetic devices in English poetry has been rhyme. AFAIK, that came into English from Old French. (But metre is one of the most basic devices in the poet's armoury.)

    This lyric is interesting, inasmuch as it captures the passivity and naivety of this character.

    I was interested by Allan Bloom's essay on this play. I think Bloom was a strange man, and I've little time for his political philosophy, but he could be a penetrating critic. He says that most people, since the Romantic Movement, can no longer understand this play. He points out that Desdemona means superstitious. (I'd missed that, not being a linguist.)

    Now, I suppose someone who misses the significance in something is a "trousered ape", but someone who sees more significance in something than is really there is superstitious. That's Desdemona. She sees more significance in Othello that is really there. This will have been a fault in her education, which will have failed to "engage her emotions" Bloom says, as I recall. She thinks he's more significant than he is, because he's strange to her - but she doesn't realise that to others he would be everyday. He tells stories. But actually the text is silent as to whether they are true or not. Othello tends to get too much sympathy nowadays. One could say he is manipulated, but then he does kill and that's not something to wink at. (Are the critics asleep?) He also responds to very flimsy "evidence" - the handkerchief - and that's a sign of his basic insecurity. One could say that Iago's machinations make things happen faster than they would otherwise have done so, but once you look at what's said and weigh things up you can see that this is what would happen eventually anyway.

    Portia is the kind of woman that Shakespeare would be impressed by, thinks Bloom. I think he's right.

    Interesting interpretation. I find it very convincing.
  12. b612

    b612 New Member

    I finished literature course with A levels but I didn't read Othello. Shame on me. :shit:

    I did read Hamlet though. A lot of times.

    I like the image of Ophelia.


    It's often used nowadays. Like, for example , here


    Do you recognise the movie?
  13. Gagnrad

    Gagnrad New Member

  14. b612

    b612 New Member

    "The Hireling Shepherd". Looks very nice.


    OK I think I'm posting too many nude women today but here's the last one


    The one from the river.

    Think more. You surely know the movie.
  15. notsoperfick

    notsoperfick New Member

    Melancholia. Lars von Trier
  16. b612

    b612 New Member

    Thank you! Gagnrad , you didn't pass my exam. Bad student.
  17. Gagnrad

    Gagnrad New Member

    Oh, some Scandinavian windbag. ;-)

    What do you think of Housman, notsoperfick? I was leafing through A Shropshire Lad last night. I was surprised to find how little I thought of most of it - probably my fault. He was brought up in Worcs., wasn't he? So Shropshire actually formed the boundary of the landscape of his childhood world - those "blue remembered hills". (I don't know the West Midlands well myself.) But these poems perhaps aren't really about place.

    I think "On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble" is a lovely way to start a poem, but I don't find that poem works for me. Housman does come up with some striking phrases, and often I think the first line is good - "With rue my heart is laden ...", "Loveliest of trees the cherry now ..." - but for me he falters after that. I think I see the feeling he's trying to evoke in some of these poems, but it seems to me that often his diction gets in the way.

    I quite like the poem that begins "When I was one-and-twenty ..." but I think that is because it is such a slight thing, so there's nothing to really fail at.
  18. notsoperfick

    notsoperfick New Member

    Housman, starts well as you noted, first line full of promise, then seems to struggle. Rhyming couplets mostly, always tricky I think finding that one word that rhymes. Cambridge professor with a bent for Latin, I have to admire that, Latin and I never gelled. He is perhaps like an author who thinks of his book title first and then tries to write the story round it, if you're lucky it works, if not you have Housman, so much promise in that first line which is oft not delivered. I've read worse mind.
  19. b612

    b612 New Member

    you are a very
    bad student

    You need to be punished.

  20. b612

    b612 New Member

    People! Do you want to know a computer science version of ee cummings?

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