March 21 - World Poetry Day (designated by UNESCO) Thread poster: Aurora Humarán (X)
| Aurora Humarán (X) Argentina Local time: 13:02 English to Spanish + ...
It seems that the Poetry Day was born sometime in the 1930s. In 1999, UNESCO decided to designate March 21 as World Poetry Day and the day is celebrated in hundreds of countries. Two of my favourite poets for a humble tribute. The suicide Not a single star ... See more It seems that the Poetry Day was born sometime in the 1930s. In 1999, UNESCO decided to designate March 21 as World Poetry Day and the day is celebrated in hundreds of countries. Two of my favourite poets for a humble tribute. The suicide Not a single star will be left in the night. The night will not be left. I will die and, with me, the weight of the intolerable universe. I shall erase the pyramids, the medallions, the continents and faces. I shall erase the accumulated past. I shall make dust of history, dust of dust. Now I am looking on the final sunset. I am hearing the last bird. I bequeath nothingness to no one. Jorge Luis Borges Translated by Borges and Norman Di Giovanni Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death; for who is he? The porter of my father’s lodge As much abasheth me. Of life? ‘T were odd I fear a thing That comprehendeth me In one or more existences At Deity’s decree. Of resurrection? Is the east Afraid to trust the morn With her fastidious forehead? As soon impeach my crown! Emily Dickinson
[Edited at 2005-03-21 02:35] ▲ Collapse | | | English poems by Fernando Pessoa | Mar 21, 2005 |
I am the escaped one I am the escaped one, After I was born They locked me up inside me But I left. My soul seeks me, Through hills and valley, I hope my soul Never finds me. Alentejo Seen From The Train Nothing with nothing around it And a few trees in between None of wich very clearly green, Where no river or flower pays a visit. If there be a hell, I've found it, For if ain't ... See more I am the escaped one I am the escaped one, After I was born They locked me up inside me But I left. My soul seeks me, Through hills and valley, I hope my soul Never finds me. Alentejo Seen From The Train Nothing with nothing around it And a few trees in between None of wich very clearly green, Where no river or flower pays a visit. If there be a hell, I've found it, For if ain't here, where the Devil it is? Meantime Far away, far away, Far away from here... There is no worry after joy Or away from fear Far away from here. Her lips were not very red, Not her hair quite gold. Her hands played with rings. She did not let me hold Her hands playing with gold. She is something past, Far away from pain. Joy can touch her not, nor hope Enter her domain, Neither love in vain. Perhaps at some day beyond Shadows and light She will think of me and make All me a delight All away from sight. The poems written in English by Fernando Pessoa. http://pintopc.home.cern.ch/pintopc/www/FPessoa/FPessoa.html
[Edited at 2005-03-21 08:08]
[Edited at 2005-03-21 08:09] ▲ Collapse | | | tr. (X) Local time: 17:02 English to Italian my favourites for the day | Mar 21, 2005 |
two short poems by Paul Muldoon: The Boundary Commission You remember that village where the border ran Down the middle of the street, With the butcher and baker in different states? Today he remarked how a shower of rain Had stopped so cleanly across Golightly's lane It might have been a wall of glass That had toppled over... See more two short poems by Paul Muldoon: The Boundary Commission You remember that village where the border ran Down the middle of the street, With the butcher and baker in different states? Today he remarked how a shower of rain Had stopped so cleanly across Golightly's lane It might have been a wall of glass That had toppled over. He stood there, for ages, To wonder which side, if any, he should be on. Why Brownlee Left Why Brownlee left, and where he went, Is a mystery even now. For if a man should have been content It was him; two acres of barley, One of potatoes, four bullocks, A milker, a slated farmhouse. He was last seen going out to plough On a March morning, bright and early. By noon Brownlee was famous; They had found all abandoned, with The last rig unbroken, his pair of black Horses, like man and wife, Shifting their weight from foot to Foot, and gazing into the future. ▲ Collapse | | | Have a poetic March 21 | Mar 21, 2005 |
Dear poetry lovers, Enjoy. Seadeta My Father's Garden by Ioana Teodorescu Unbeknownst to the garden, he is packing. The roses don't know he's taken all the pressed flowers from books and thrown them away. Nobody told the geraniums this time he won't be coming back with new seeds for the spring. After my father left, I blossomed but the garden started dying. His beloved d... See more Dear poetry lovers, Enjoy. Seadeta My Father's Garden by Ioana Teodorescu Unbeknownst to the garden, he is packing. The roses don't know he's taken all the pressed flowers from books and thrown them away. Nobody told the geraniums this time he won't be coming back with new seeds for the spring. After my father left, I blossomed but the garden started dying. His beloved daturas resigned. No one to tell them stories, to pray for blooms. I guess one doesn't miss what one was never given but sometimes I'd feel the soft rain and wished his flowers were alive, their light was all that kept him home. It disappeared when mornings without sun he didn't water anything. I'll never know the subtle difference between one rose and another. ▲ Collapse | |
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Aurora Humarán (X) Argentina Local time: 13:02 English to Spanish + ... TOPIC STARTER Revisiting W.H.Davies | Mar 21, 2005 |
Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time... See more Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. ▲ Collapse | | | Aurora Humarán (X) Argentina Local time: 13:02 English to Spanish + ... TOPIC STARTER
Thank you for the poems, María Luisa, Traweb and Seadeta. au Anothe pearl, this time Sir Thomas Wyatt's: Throughout the World Throughout the world if it were sought, Fair words enough a man shall find; They be good cheap, they cost right nought, Their substance is but only wind. But well to say and so to mean, That sweet acc... See more Thank you for the poems, María Luisa, Traweb and Seadeta. au Anothe pearl, this time Sir Thomas Wyatt's: Throughout the World Throughout the world if it were sought, Fair words enough a man shall find; They be good cheap, they cost right nought, Their substance is but only wind. But well to say and so to mean, That sweet accord is seldom seen. ▲ Collapse | | | tr. (X) Local time: 17:02 English to Italian
Aurora Humarán wrote: Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. (...) Aurora, that's funny, when I read that I knew I'd come across it very recently, read by a female voice, possibly on tv (!), but couldn't remember where, and indeed, after a quick search: The poem was used in a TV ad for Center Parcs recently. The poem Leisure by W.H. Davies, which most people - myself included - first heard broadcast on an advert for the bizarre holiday complex Center Parcs, is in the top ten of booksellers’ most awkward enquiries. The poem, out of print for years, now appears, along with a selection of Davies’ other poems, in Barbara Hooper's forthcoming biography Time to Stand and Stare (Peter Owen). I can't remember reading it before, but hearing it read out made it stick in my head, it has a very song-like cadence. Why not keep this thread going all year? | | | RHELLER United States Local time: 10:02 French to English + ... three of Leonard Cohen's poems | Mar 23, 2005 |
Thanks to everyone - I enjoyed reading the poems you have posted for this special day http://members.tripod.com/~Raincloud771/poetry/cohen/variouspos.htm ----------------- Dance Me to the End of Love Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me... See more Thanks to everyone - I enjoyed reading the poems you have posted for this special day http://members.tripod.com/~Raincloud771/poetry/cohen/variouspos.htm ----------------- Dance Me to the End of Love Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the children who are asking to be born Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn Dance me to the end of love Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love ---------------------------------------------------------------- Coming Back to You Maybe I'm still hurting I can't turn the other cheek But you know that I still love you It's just that I can't speak I looked for you in everyone And they called me on that too I lived alone but I was only Coming back to you Ah they're shutting down the factory now Just when all the bills are due And the fields they're under lock and key Tho' the rain and the sun come through And springtime starts but then it stops In the name of something new And all the senses rise against this Coming back to you And they're handing down my sentence now And I know what I must do Another mile of silence while I'm Coming back to you There are many in your life And many still to be Since you are a shining light There's many that you'll see But I have to deal with envy When you choose the precious few Who've left their pride on the other side of Coming back to you Even in your arms I know I'll never get it right Even when you bend to give me Comfort in the night I've got to have your word on this Or none of it is true And all I've said was just instead of Coming back to you ------------------------ Heart With No Companion I greet you from the other side Of sorrow and despair With a love so vast and shattered It will reach you everywhere And I sing this for the captain Whose ship has not been built For the mother in confusion Her cradle still unfilled For the heart with no companion For the soul without a king For the prima ballerina Who cannot dance to anything Through the days of shame that are coming Through the nights of wild distress Tho' your promise count for nothing You must keep it nonetheless You must keep it for the captain Whose ship has not been built For the mother in confusion Her cradle still unfilled For the heart with no companion ... I greet you from the other side ... ▲ Collapse | | | To report site rules violations or get help, contact a site moderator: You can also contact site staff by submitting a support request » March 21 - World Poetry Day (designated by UNESCO) TM-Town | Manage your TMs and Terms ... and boost your translation business
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