Off topic: 29 - poem by e.e. cummings
Thread poster: A Hayes
| | A Hayes
Local time: 00:07
the greedy the people
(as if as can yes)
they steal and they buy
and they die for because
though the bell in the steeple
the chary the wary
(as all as can each)
they don\'t and they do
and they turn to a which
though the moon in her glory
the busy the millions
(as you\'re as can i\'m)
they flock and they flee
through a thunder of seem
thoguh the stars in their silence
the cunning the craven
(as think as can feel)
they when and they how
and they live for until
though the sun in his heaven
the timid the tender
(as doubt as can trust)
they work and they pray
and they bow to a must
though the earth in her splendor
Have a Happy and Safe Christmas and New Year (those who celebrate them). And remember what the Dormouse said:
Feed your head,
Feed your head.
| Thanks munchkin || Dec 21, 2002 |
Maybe you\'ll also enjoy this one.
My Papa\'s Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother\'s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
| | A Hayes
Local time: 00:07
| ironically beautiful || Dec 22, 2002 |
have a wonderful white (?) Christmas-
| Oh Kim & Munchin!!! || Dec 22, 2002 |
You\'re both delightful! Fondest Season\'s Greetings to you both!
| Continuing the American modernist thread || Dec 22, 2002 |
The American poets of the 1920s and 30s are sometimes called the modernist poets. Besides munchkin's e.e. cummings and Roethke, that group also included Wallace Stevens.
CY EST POURTRAICTE, MADAME STE URSULE, ET LES UNZE MILLE VIERGES
Ursula, in a garden, found
A bed of radishes.
She kneeled upon the ground
And gathered them,
With flowers around,
Blue, gold, pink, and green.
She dressed in red and gold brocade
And in the grass an offering made
Of radishes and flowers.
She said, “My dear,
Upon your altars,
I have placed
The marguerite and coquelicot,
Frail as April snow;
But here,” she said,
“Where none can see,
I make an offering, in the grass,
Of radishes and flowers.”
And then she wept
For fear the Lord would not accept.
The good Lord in His garden sought
New leaf and shadowy tinct,
And they were all His thought.
He heard her low accord,
Half prayer and half ditty,
And He felt a subtle quiver,
That was not heavenly love,
This is not writ
In any book.
Wallace Stevens (1879 – 1955)
[ This Message was edited by:on2002-12-22 20:28]
[Edited at 2003-10-26 04:03]
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| it may not always be so, but... || Jun 21, 2003 |
I´m a "rookie" from Brazil and joined in search for help with a much more simpler poem (smiles). Actually I´m searching for a Spanish translation of the following, from "Tulips and Chimneys":
it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands