Babel

Tag: Poetry

  • Sometimes I Wish I Had Poetic Talent

    Twilight over the river Aude, Hérault, Langued...
    Image via Wikipedia

    Well… I was walking near one of the canals in Tottenham Hale towards the twilight (not that twilight, ugh, I can’t even use this word without sparkly cheesy connotations any more, bless you whatever-is-your-name-woman-who-invented-sparkly-vampires-sensitive-to-the-humans’-emotions) and it just felt … umm… like poetry.

    If you watched the video before reading this post, then, very good, if you didn’t please watch it. It’s basically a poem by Mihai Eminescu, something of a lullaby, but also describing nature going to sleep. I won’t go into interpretations (just search for “Somnoroase pasarele” – if you know Romanian – or “Drowsy birds” could be its English translation: find the poem here, in Romanian, English, Hungarian, Modern and Ancient Chinese). Here are the lyrics as translated in English (from that site – the version which is really nice, not the other one, *cough* Sleepy Birds… But it still can’t catch the nuances that it does in the Romanian language, it’s maybe why they say poetry can’t really be translated, it can be at most re-written, but its form and rhythm are built within the music of certain language and that language alone):

    Drowsy birds

    Drowsy birds at even gliding,
    Round about their nests alight,
    In among the branches hiding…
    Dear, good night!

    Silence through the forest creeping,
    Lullaby the river sighs;
    In the garden flowers sleeping…
    Shut your eyes!

    Glides the swan among the rushes
    To its rest where moonlight gleams,
    And the angels’ whisper hushes…
    Peaceful dreams!

    O’er the sky stars without number,
    On the earth a silver light;
    All is harmony and slumber…
    Dear, good night!

    (trad. de Corneliu M. Popescu)

    Well, anyway… While I was walking along the water – and feeling guilty that I forgot to take some treats with me again and all the birds were looking at me quite irritated – I felt like singing this song (because it was made a song by George Popescu) while I was watching everything natural and human going to sleep. At times like this I really wish I were a poet, but for some reason I can’t find words (that is poetic words that can describe an image or another), it feels really difficult to give shape to feelings – especially if they’re complex and include a whole pantheon of elements.

    Well, I was thinking that Eminescu must have taken a walk like me, some 200 years ago. The only difference? He wrote a poem, which was given music, and which is now a part of the Romanian heritage. What did I do? A blog post. A conventional blog post, with a YouTube video link. It’s not that I want to point at myself and say “Sinner, heathen, stupid, whatever”… It’s just that I wish I could write a poem as simple and beautiful as that. Plus, if in the 1880s, if there had been such a thing as blogging, I guess he’d be blogging too. And most likely not the poems and nice stuff, but normal, opinionated, perhaps even politically incorrect posts.

    But don’t let me destroy the dreamy feeling I have with silly assumptions. I’ll leave you with the drowsy birds and bid you a very good, peaceful night!

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  • WRITER’S NOTES

    Four drab walls with smog in the
    window … dark streets below no
    one dares to walk through …
    creaky bed, small table with a
    wobble …there’s a hotplate on
    the window sill.
    The bathroom is down the hall.
    There’s a public phone down it,
    too, although you never get a call.
    The radio on the dresser was
    purchased from a thrift shop.
    The classical music you play on it
    always sounds a little shocked.
    A shoebox filled with rejection
    slips lies on the floor of the closet.
    Next to it is a stack of literary
    magazines with funky names.
    Each one has a sample of your
    work in it – which makes it all
    worth it. It had better. It’s all
    you’re going to get.
    Life’s road is a scar, cut by a
    butcher. The tears of each
    generation water the graveyard of
    civilization. And yet dreams still
    flicker in the darkness, our only
    ray of hope in chaos. You try
    to get that on paper. Tell those
    stories few could comprehend
    about the places you have been.
    Sometimes you wonder why you
    bother. Even if manage to shed
    some light on the human condition
    The world will be the same tomorrow.

  • The Man vs. The Poet

    Adrian Păunescu - 06.July.2009 / 14:39:48
    Image by Foto Ciumpy 1923 via Flickr

    Adrian Paunescu is one of the most controversial personalities from (post-) Communist Romania.  For the older generation (I mean those who were in their teens/twenties – even thirties or more in the 1970s and 1980s) he was the local version of a pop star. He could gather thousands of people (without ANY sort of PR), stir up their emotions. Paunescu was able to write -beautiful – poems any time, most of the times he wrote during the shows.

    For us, those who were born after the Cenaclul Flacara disappeared, Adrian Paunescu was mostly another nationalist politician with leftist sympaties we laughed of. Most people call him names or worse – he was even added in the Communism Black Book for the fact that he wrote poems glorifying Ceausescu. And he did, yes, he did, and he even admitted he did, he admitted being a pig. The interesting thing about him – he was a nationalist, everybody in Romania knows that – when picking people to participate to his poetry and song circle he did not care where you came from, if you were talented, you were in. He appreciated value, and that is a plus. He did what he did, but what I cannot deny is the charisma and power to move masses – I know I couldn’t do that!

    I did not know him, at least not like that and I didn’t give a damn about him – I admit – until I saw footage from the many meetings with the Cenaclul Flacara and I was more than impressed. I would be a hypocrite if I’d start crying and calling him my master, but I’m willing to learn, at least now that he’s gone. And no, I’m not a communist (though I share some of the ideals, like I also share liberal, democrat or religious ideals), I don’t consider myself having a political colour or another, but when I appreciate a man and a woman, I do so based on the effect (s)he has on my heart and mind. And yes, wathing those videos made me sad – sad for not being there and especially sad for not knowing. Rest in peace, may God forgive your errors and reward your good deeds.

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  • 'Regal Bow' Double Rainbow

    Double Rainbow photo by © Dan Bush 2006

    ‘Regal Bow’ Double Rainbow photograph by Dan Bush

    ‘Regal Bow’ is my name for this sublime double rainbow which appeared February 2, 2006 in  Elam Bend. Dan Bush of McFall, Missouri took this perfect shot of it. You can see more of his photos and read his photo essay of the event at missouriskies.org

     

    Regal Bow

    cloudy gray

    drenching cold

    mists abound

    breaking cloud

    light rays peek

    drops burst

    light struck

    sparkling colors

    become bows

    arching sky

    magic sparkles

    colors sing

    blessing… all

    regal bow

    ~Inspired by the photo above.

     

    Double Rainbow Lexington, NC by RickKilian 1-7-09 We are being blessed with so many rainbows. Left is a double that formed after winter storms in Lexington, NC taken by Rick Kilian January 7, 2009. You can see more rainbows at weather.com. More blessings from Creator. Thank you, thank you.

    ~Bonnee Klein Gilligan

  • Creator's Majesty

    Creator's Majesty photograph ©Ryan Ridge 2009

    ‘Creator’s Majesty’ photo by Ryan Ridge

    ‘Creator’s Majesty’ is my name for this amazing image. Ryan Ridge added this photograph to flickr January 7, 2009. A rainbow from his front porch near Homer, Alaska. Wow!

     

    Creator’s Majesty

    Snow covered mountains peek through mists.

    Light plays on drifting clouds.

    Still waters shimmer, cold.

    While dark pines guard lakes edge.

    Rainbow streaks across the sky

    The scene so full of wonder

    Body shudders, mind expands

    Tears fall on wetted cheek

    Creator’s Majesty! 

    Words do no justice here

    Simply awe…

    ~Inspired by the photo above.

     

    You can read about Ryan’s life in the big woods of Alaska on his blog or see more of his amazing photos at flickr.com.

    ~Bonnee Klein Gilligan