Poetry and quotable quotes

[Florestan]

Here's something I scribbled this afternoon:

The Sound

The sound of heart, beating
The rushing blood, streaming
The scratching needle, dropping

Silently in the agonizing
Body, in the veins flowing
Soothing pain, and killing
All sensation, and being.

Muscles relenting,
Body dropping
In silence.

Pidän siitä (Blame it on Google Translate, if need be...)

My one and only poem written in English thus far is this.

Schubert - String Quartet in A minor D 804 "Rosamunde"

1. Allegro ma non troppo

Long, long ago, when I was young,
My days were filled with joy and song.
Their memory still lives in me,
Like a sweet Mozart melody.
Dark have been my days of late,
Pain and misery my fate,
And yet, away from me, o Death!
For as long as I still can breath'
My youth, though gone, will sing to me
That happy Mozart melody.

2. Andante

I loved a maid from distant lands,
The Heaven whole was in her hands,
But Time went by mercilessly
And took away my love from me.
Where art thou now, my fair Lenore?
Quoth the Raven: - Nevermore.

3. Menuetto, Allegro

"You broken soul, can you still dance?"
Thus asked me Death, and I said: "Yes!
My poor soul is dancing still,
What's really broken is my will."
"Then come with me and have no fear",
said she, "your final rest is near."
"Not yet!, for broken is my will,
But my poor soul is dancing still!"

4. Allegro moderato

Let's go now, Death, but not too fast!
This journey here is my last,
Allow me then farewell to take
From things that life worth living make.
For neither song, nor love, nor men
I'll hear, or feel, or see again.
To my youth's tune I take a bow,
And... here's my hand! I'm all yours now.

[North Star]

Pidän siitä (Blame it on Google Translate, if need be...)

My one and only poem written in English thus far is this.

Schubert - String Quartet in A minor D 804 "Rosamunde"

Thanks. GT got it right, too.

I remember seeing that poem before. Very nice.

Another one I wrote this afternoon:

A little speck
on the screen
wiped away

All our lives
and the Earth
one day.

[Karl Henning]

Enjoying your posts, lads.

[Ten thumbs]

THE MERMAID 

Blow on, ye death-fraught whirlwinds! blow,
     Around the rocks, and rifted caves;
  Ye demons of the gulf below!
     I hear you, in the troubled waves.
  High on this cliff, which darknes shrouds
  In night's impenetrable clouds,
  My solitary watch I keep,
  And listen, while the turbid deep
Groans to the raging tempests, as they roll
Their desolating force, to thunder at the pole.

  Eternal world of waters, hail!
     Within thy caves my Lover lies;
  And day and night alike shall fail,
     Ere slumber lock my streaming eyes.
  Along this wild untrodden coast,
  Heap'd by the gelid hand of frost;
  Thro' this unbounded waste of seas,
  Where never sigh'd the vernal breeze;
Mine was the choice, in this terrific form,
To brave the icy surge, to shiver in the storm.

  Yes! I am chang'd.—My heart, my soul,
     Retain no more their former glow.
  Hence, ere the black'ning tempests roll,
     I watch the bark, in murmurs low,
  (While darker low'rs the thick'ning gloom)
  To lure the sailor to his doom;
  Soft from some pile of frozen snow
  I pour the syren-song of woe;
Like the sad mariner's expiring cry,
As, faint and worn with toil, he lays him down to die.

  Then, while the dark and angry deep
     Hangs his huge billows high in air;
  And the wild wind with awful sweep,
     Howls in each fitful swell—beware!
  Firm on the rent and crashing mast,
  I lend new fury to the blast;
  I mark each hardy cheek grow pale,
  And the proud sons of courage fail;
Till the torn vessel drinks the surging waves,
Yawns the disparted main, and opes its shelving graves.

  When Vengeance bears along the wave
     The spell, which heav'n and earth appals;
  Alone, by night, in darksome cave,
     On me the gifted wizard calls.
  Above the ocean's boiling flood
  Thro' vapour glares the moon in blood:
  Low sound. along the waters die,
  And shrieks of anguish fill the sky;
Convulsive powers the solid rocks divide,
While, o'er the heaving surge, the embodied spirits glide.

  Thrice welcome to my weary sight,
     Avenging ministers of wrath!
  Ye heard, amid the realms of night,
     The spell that wakes the sleep of death.
  Where Hecla's flames the snows dissolve,
  Or storms, the polar skies involve;
  Where, o'er the tempest-beaten wreck,
  The raging winds and billows break;
On the sad earth, and in the stormy sea,
All, all shall shudd'ring own your potent agency.

  To aid your toils, to scatter death,
     Swift, as the sheeted lightning's force,
  When the keen north-wind's freezing breath
     Spreads desolation in its course,
  My soul within this icy sea,
  Fulfils her fearful destiny.
  Thro' Time's long ages I shall wait
  To lead the victims to their fate;
With callous heart, to hidden rocks decoy,
And lure, in seraph-strains, unpitying, to destroy.

Anne Bannerman, 1800

[North Star]

I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,

for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.

But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.

-Frank O'Hara

[Florestan]

At the first cursory glance I read SADNESS instead of SARDINES.

[North Star]

Katherine, Lady Dyer: [Epitaph on Sir William Dyer] (1621)

My dearest dust could not thy hasty day
Afford thy drowzy patience leave to stay
One hower longer; so that we might either
      Sate up, or gone to bedd together?
But since thy finisht labor hath possest
      Thy weary limbs with early rest,
Enjoy it sweetly; and thy widdowe bride
Shall soone repose her by thy slumbering side;
Whose business, now is only to prepare
      My nightly dress, and call to prayre:
Mine eyes wax heavy and the day growes old
      The dew falls thick, my bloud growes cold;
Draw, draw the closed curtaynes: and make room;
My deare, my dearest dust; I come, I come.


Robert Herrick - Hesperides (1648)

The Argument of His Book

I sing of Brooks, of Blossomes, Birds, and Bowers:   
Of April, May, of June, and July-Flowers.   
I sing of May-poles, Hock-carts, Wassails, Wakes,   
Of Bride-grooms, Brides, and of their Bridall-cakes.   
I write of Youth, of Love;—and have Accesse
By these, to sing of cleanly-Wantonnesse.   
I sing of Dewes, of Raines, and, piece by piece   
Of Balme, of Oyle, of Spice, and Amber-Greece.   
I sing of Times trans-shifting; and I write   
How Roses first came Red, and Lilies White.
I write of Groves, of Twilights, and I sing   
The Court of Mab, and of the Fairie-King.   
I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall)   
Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.

[North Star]

Job 3, KJV

Let the day perish, wherein I was borne, and the night in which it was said, There is a man-childe conceiued.
Let that day bee darkenesse, let not God regard it from aboue, neither let the light shine vpon it.
Let darkenes and the shadowe of death staine it, let a cloud dwell vpon it, let the blacknes of the day terrifie it.
As for that night, let darkenesse seaze vpon it, let it not be ioyned vnto the dayes of the yeere, let it not come into the number of the moneths.
Loe, let that night be solitarie, let no ioyfull voice come therein.
Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise vp their mourning.
Let the starres of the twilight thereof be darke, let it looke for light, but haue none, neither let it see the dawning of the day:
Because it shut not vp the doores of my mothers wombe, nor hid sorrowe from mine eyes.
Why died I not from the wombe? why did I not giue vp the ghost when I came out of the bellie?
Why did the knees preuent mee? or why the breasts, that I should sucke?
For now should I haue lien still and beene quiet, I should haue slept; then had I bene at rest,
With Kings and counsellers of the earth, which built desolate places for themselues,
Or with Princes that had golde, who filled their houses with siluer:
Or as an hidden vntimely birth, I had not bene; as infants which neuer saw light.
There the wicked cease from troubling: and there the wearie be at rest.
There the prisoners rest together, they heare not the voice of the oppressour.
The small and great are there, and the seruant is free from his master.
Wherefore is light giuen to him that is in misery, and life vnto the bitter in soule?
Which long for death, but it commeth not, and dig for it more then for hid treasures:
Which reioice exceedingly, and are glad when they can finde the graue?
Why is light giuen to a man, whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
For my sighing commeth before I eate, and my roarings are powred out like the waters.
For the thing which I greatly feared is come vpon me, and that which I was afraid of, is come vnto me.
I was not in safetie, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet: yet trouble came.

[Karl Henning]

Job 3, KJV

Let the day perish, wherein I was borne, and the night in which it was said, There is a man-childe conceiued.
Let that day bee darkenesse, let not God regard it from aboue, neither let the light shine vpon it.
Let darkenes and the shadowe of death staine it, let a cloud dwell vpon it, let the blacknes of the day terrifie it.
As for that night, let darkenesse seaze vpon it, let it not be ioyned vnto the dayes of the yeere, let it not come into the number of the moneths.
Loe, let that night be solitarie, let no ioyfull voice come therein.
Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise vp their mourning.
Let the starres of the twilight thereof be darke, let it looke for light, but haue none, neither let it see the dawning of the day:
Because it shut not vp the doores of my mothers wombe, nor hid sorrowe from mine eyes.
Why died I not from the wombe? why did I not giue vp the ghost when I came out of the bellie?
Why did the knees preuent mee? or why the breasts, that I should sucke?
For now should I haue lien still and beene quiet, I should haue slept; then had I bene at rest,
With Kings and counsellers of the earth, which built desolate places for themselues,
Or with Princes that had golde, who filled their houses with siluer:
Or as an hidden vntimely birth, I had not bene; as infants which neuer saw light.
There the wicked cease from troubling: and there the wearie be at rest.
There the prisoners rest together, they heare not the voice of the oppressour.
The small and great are there, and the seruant is free from his master.
Wherefore is light giuen to him that is in misery, and life vnto the bitter in soule?
Which long for death, but it commeth not, and dig for it more then for hid treasures:
Which reioice exceedingly, and are glad when they can finde the graue?
Why is light giuen to a man, whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
For my sighing commeth before I eate, and my roarings are powred out like the waters.
For the thing which I greatly feared is come vpon me, and that which I was afraid of, is come vnto me.
I was not in safetie, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet: yet trouble came.

Beautiful stuff.  (And IIRC the Book of Job is one of the very oldest of the documents of the OT.)

[Florestan]

Job 38

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said,
Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?
Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me.
Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.
Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it?
Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;
When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb?
When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddlingband for it,
And brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors,
And said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?
Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days; and caused the dayspring to know his place;
That it might take hold of the ends of the earth, that the wicked might be shaken out of it?
It is turned as clay to the seal; and they stand as a garment.
And from the wicked their light is withholden, and the high arm shall be broken.
Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in the search of the depth?
Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death?
Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth? declare if thou knowest it all.
Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the place thereof,
That thou shouldest take it to the bound thereof, and that thou shouldest know the paths to the house thereof?
Knowest thou it, because thou wast then born? or because the number of thy days is great?
Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail,
Which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the day of battle and war?
By what way is the light parted, which scattereth the east wind upon the earth?
Who hath divided a watercourse for the overflowing of waters, or a way for the lightning of thunder;
To cause it to rain on the earth, where no man is; on the wilderness, wherein there is no man;
To satisfy the desolate and waste ground; and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth?
Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops of dew?
Out of whose womb came the ice? and the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it?
The waters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen.
Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?
Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons?
Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth?
Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover thee?
Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go and say unto thee, Here we are?
Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? or who hath given understanding to the heart?
Who can number the clouds in wisdom? or who can stay the bottles of heaven,
When the dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast together?
Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lion? or fill the appetite of the young lions,
When they couch in their dens, and abide in the covert to lie in wait?
Who provideth for the raven his food? when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat.

[Karl Henning]

Hence a certain Henning piece, When the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy.

[Florestan]

Hence a certain Henning piece, When the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy.

BTW, can hardly wait for Henning´s Miserere.

[kishnevi]

Beautiful stuff.  (And IIRC the Book of Job is one of the very oldest of the documents of the OT.)

Or possibly one of the last,  except for Daniel and Esther.  I have seen theories that it was modelled on Greek tragedy. And it is the only book of the Bible which the Talmudic Sages were prepared to consider as a work of fiction.

I think Bible critics label the Song of the Sea [Exodus 15:1-18] as one of the oldest texts in the Bible.

[North Star]

Hence a certain Henning piece, When the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy.

I'm waiting for the companion piece Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? 

[Florestan]

I have seen theories that it was modelled on Greek tragedy.

Or the other way around, maybe? 

[Karl Henning]

I'm waiting for the companion piece Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? 

Much rich material therein!

[ZauberdrachenNr.7]

Job 38 ...

"I was looking for a Job and then I found a Job.  And heaven knows I'm miserable now."
Morrissey (Smiths)

[North Star]

KEATS: On First Looking into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
  And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
  Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
  That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
  Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
  When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
  He star'd at the Pacific - and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise -
  Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

[Jo498]

I think Bible critics label the Song of the Sea [Exodus 15:1-18] as one of the oldest texts in the Bible.

Most or all of this is set to music in Handel's Israel in Egypt (and at least the beginning on many other occasions, I guess).

[Karl Henning]

KEATS: On First Looking into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
  And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
  Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
  That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
  Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
  When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
  He star'd at the Pacific - and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise -
  Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

Redounding in fame thanks, in part, to the occasional allusion in Wodehouse