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Favourite poem - any language | ||
Tags: Poetry | Multilingual | ||
 Language Learning Forum : Books, Literature & Reading |  | |
| Marc Frisch Heptaglot Senior Member Germany Joined 6446 days ago 1001 posts - 1169 votes  Speaks: German*, French, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Turkish, Italian Studies: Persian, Tamil | Message 25 of 60 05 December 2010 at 10:14pm | IP Logged | ||
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The following poem is by Christa Reinig and is called "Robinson".
Manchmal weint er wenn die worte still in seiner kehle stehn doch er lernt an seinem orte schweigend mit sich umzugehn und erfindet alte dinge halb aus not und halb im spiel splittert stein zur messerklinge schnürt die axt an einen stiel kratzt mit einer muschelkante seinen namen in die wand und der allzu oft genannte wird ihm langsam unbekannt 1 person has voted this message useful | |||
| iguanamon Pentaglot Senior Member Virgin Islands Speaks: Ladino Joined 5043 days ago 2237 posts - 6731 votes Speaks: English*, Spanish, Portuguese, Haitian Creole, Creole (French) | Message 26 of 60 06 December 2010 at 12:45am | IP Logged | ||
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My favorite poet is Pablo Neruda. He wrote a very powerful poem whilst in Spain during the Spanish Civil War- Explico algunas cosas- "I'm Explaining a Few Things"
EXPLICO ALGUNAS COSAS- PABLO NERUDA Preguntaréis: Y dónde están las lilas? Y la metafísica cubierta de amapolas? Y la lluvia que a menudo golpeaba sus palabras llenándolas de agujeros y pájaros? Os voy a contar todo lo que me pasa. Yo vivía en un barrio de Madrid, con campanas, con relojes, con árboles. Desde allí se veía el rostro seco de Castilla como un océano de cuero. Mi casa era llamada la casa de las flores, porque por todas partes estallaban geranios: era una bella casa con perros y chiquillos. Raúl, te acuerdas? Te acuerdas, Rafael? Federico, te acuerdas debajo de la tierra, te acuerdas de mi casa con balcones en donde la luz de junio ahogaba flores en tu boca? Hermano, hermano! Todo eran grandes voces, sal de mercaderías, aglomeraciones de pan palpitante, mercados de mi barrio de Argüelles con su estatua como un tintero pálido entre las merluzas: el aceite llegaba a las cucharas, un profundo latido de pies y manos llenaba las calles, metros, litros, esencia aguda de la vida, pescados hacinados, contextura de techos con sol frío en el cual la flecha se fatiga, delirante marfil fino de las patatas, tomates repetidos hasta el mar. Y una mañana todo estaba ardiendo y una mañana las hogueras salían de la tierra devorando seres, y desde entonces fuego, pólvora desde entonces, y desde entonces sangre. Bandidos con aviones y con moros, bandidos con sortijas y duquesas, bandidos con frailes negros bendiciendo venían por el cielo a matar niños, y por las calles la sangre de los niños corría simplemente, como sangre de niños. Chacales que el chacal rechazaría, piedras que el cardo seco mordería escupiendo, víboras que las víboras odiaran! Frente a vosotros he visto la sangre de España levantarse para ahogaros en una sola ola de orgullo y de cuchillos! Generales traidores: mirad mi casa muerta, mirad España rota: pero de cada casa muerta sale metal ardiendo en vez de flores, pero de cada hueco de España sale España, pero de cada niño muerto sale un fusil con ojos, pero de cada crimen nacen balas que os hallarán un día el sitio del corazón. Preguntaréis por qué su poesía no nos habla del sueño, de las hojas, de los grandes volcanes de su país natal? Venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles! Edited by iguanamon on 06 December 2010 at 12:55am 4 persons have voted this message useful | |||
| argentum Bilingual Triglot Newbie United States Joined 4982 days ago 15 posts - 22 votes Speaks: Russian*, Ukrainian*, English Studies: Italian | Message 27 of 60 06 December 2010 at 5:32am | IP Logged | ||
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Ukrainian:
Яблука доспіли (Максим Рильский) Яблука доспіли, яблука червоні! Ми з тобою йдемо стежкою в саду. Ти мене, кохана, проведеш до поля, Я піду — і, може, більше не прийду. Вже-я любов доспіла під промінням теплим, І її зірвали радісні уста,— А тепер у серці щось тремтить і грає, Як тремтить на сонці гілка золота. Гей, поля жовтіють, і синіє небо, Плугатар у полі ледве маячить- Поцілуй востаннє, обніми востаннє; Вміє розставатись той, хто вмів любить. 1911—1918 pp. **** Russian: ...Из персидских мотивов Сергея Есенина Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ! Потому, что я с севера, что ли, Я готов рассказать тебе поле, Про волнистую рожь при луне. Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ. Потому, что я с севера, что ли, Что луна там огромней в сто раз, Как бы ни был красив Шираз, Он не лучше рязанских раздолий. Потому, что я с севера, что ли. Я готов рассказать тебе поле, Эти волосы взял я у ржи, Если хочешь, на палец вяжи - Я нисколько не чувствую боли. Я готов рассказать тебе поле. Про волнистую рожь при луне По кудрям ты моим догадайся. Дорогая, шути, улыбайся, Не буди только память во мне Про волнистую рожь при луне. Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ! Там, на севере, девушка тоже, На тебя она страшно похожа, Может, думает обо мне... Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ. 1924 Edited by argentum on 06 December 2010 at 5:34am 2 persons have voted this message useful | |||
| strikingstar Bilingual Tetraglot Senior Member United States Joined 4954 days ago 292 posts - 444 votes Speaks: English*, Mandarin*, Cantonese, Swahili Studies: Spanish, Arabic (Written) | Message 28 of 60 10 December 2010 at 12:11am | IP Logged | ||
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In plain old English
"May I Feel Said He" by E. E. Cummings (may i touch said he how much said she a lot said he) why not said she (let's go said he not too far said she what's too far said he where you are said she) may i stay said he (which way said she like this said he if you kiss said she may i move said he it is love said she) if you're willing said he (but you're killing said she but it's life said he but your wife said she now said he) ow said she (tiptop said he don't stop said she oh no said he) go slow said she (cccome?said he ummm said she you're divine!said he (you are Mine said she) Edited by strikingstar on 10 December 2010 at 12:13am 1 person has voted this message useful | |||
| Scratch Groupie United States Joined 5016 days ago 45 posts - 57 votes Speaks: English* Studies: French | Message 29 of 60 10 December 2010 at 4:26pm | IP Logged | ||
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Degrees of Gray in Philipsburg
You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss you had was years ago. You walk these streets laid out by the insane, past hotels that didn't last, bars that did, the tortured try of local drivers to accelerate their lives. Only churches are kept up. The jail turned 70 this year. The only prisoner is always in, not knowing what he's done. The principal supporting business now is rage. Hatred of the various grays the mountain sends, hatred of the mill, The Silver Bill repeal, the best liked girls who leave each year for Butte. One good restaurant and bars can't wipe the boredom out. The 1907 boom, eight going silver mines, a dance floor built on springs-- all memory resolves itself in gaze, in panoramic green you know the cattle eat or two stacks high above the town, two dead kilns, the huge mill in collapse for fifty years that won't fall finally down. Isn't this your life? That ancient kiss still burning out your eyes? Isn't this defeat so accurate, the church bell simply seems a pure announcement: ring and no one comes? Don't empty houses ring? Are magnesium and scorn sufficient to support a town, not just Philipsburg, but towns of towering blondes, good jazz and booze the world will never let you have until the town you came from dies inside? Say no to yourself. The old man, twenty when the jail was built, still laughs although his lips collapse. Someday soon, he says, I'll go to sleep and not wake up. You tell him no. You're talking to yourself. The car that brought you here still runs. The money you buy lunch with, no matter where it's mined, is silver and the girl who serves your food is slender and her red hair lights the wall. --Richard Hugo Richard Hugo is a fine poet who doesn't get near enough recognition by readers who aren't writers or poets. He's got a wonderful ear for the sounds of American English and if you read him, out loud, you begin to discover he has a subtle way of making the sounds play off one another and echo through successive lines. 2 persons have voted this message useful | |||
| Ester Groupie Joined 5448 days ago 64 posts - 114 votes Speaks: Modern Hebrew | Message 30 of 60 19 January 2011 at 12:52am | IP Logged | ||
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In Italian, possibly one of my favorites is Francesca's speech from V canto of Inferno, vv. 88-107:
«O animal grazioso e benigno che visitando vai per l’aere perso noi che tignemmo il mondo di sanguigno, se fosse amico il re de l’universo, noi pregheremmo lui de la tua pace, poi c’hai pietà del nostro mal perverso. [...] Amor, ch’al cor gentil ratto s’apprende prese costui de la bella persona che mi fu tolta; e ’l modo ancor m’offende. Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona, mi prese del costui piacer sì forte, che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona. Amor condusse noi ad una morte: Caina attende chi a vita ci spense». And the final few verses of that canto. In HEBREW, psalm 104. 1 person has voted this message useful | |||
| espejismo Diglot Senior Member Russian Federation Joined 4832 days ago 498 posts - 905 votes Speaks: Russian*, English Studies: Spanish, Greek, Azerbaijani | Message 31 of 60 06 February 2011 at 1:00pm | IP Logged | ||
I'd to Lieden just to see this! and the other poems too, of course. 1 person has voted this message useful | |||
| espejismo Diglot Senior Member Russian Federation Joined 4832 days ago 498 posts - 905 votes Speaks: Russian*, English Studies: Spanish, Greek, Azerbaijani | Message 32 of 60 06 February 2011 at 1:01pm | IP Logged | ||
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Легкомыслие! — Милый грех,
Милый спутник и враг мой милый! Ты в глаза мои вбрызнул смех, Ты мазурку мне вбрызнул в жилы. Научил не хранить кольца, — С кем бы жизнь меня ни венчала! Начинать наугад с конца, И кончать еще до начала. Быть, как стебель, и быть, как сталь, В жизни, где мы так мало можем... — Шоколадом лечить печаль И смеяться в лицо прохожим! - Марина Цветаева, 1915 1 person has voted this message useful |
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