Saturday, July 29, 2017

ELDORADO - Edgar Allan Poe




GAILY bedight,
       A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
       Had journeyed long,
       Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

       But he grew old --
       This knight so bold --
And o'er his heart a shadow
       Fell as he found
       No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

       And, as his strength
       Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow --
       "Shadow," said he,
       "Where can it be --
This land of Eldorado?"

       "Over the Mountains
       Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
       Ride, boldly ride,"
       The shade replied, --
"If you seek for Eldorado!"





Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) 



photo: gb

Sunday, May 14, 2017

How neatly a Cat sleeps - Pablo Neruda


  
 
How neatly a cat sleeps,
Sleeps with its paws and its posture,
Sleeps with its wicked claws,
And with its unfeeling blood,
Sleeps with ALL the rings a series 
Of burnt circles which have formed 
The odd geology of its sand-colored tail. 
 
 
should like to sleep like a cat,
With all the fur of time,
With a tongue rough as flint,
With the dry sex of fire and 
After speaking to no one,
Stretch myself over the world,
Over roofs and landscapes,
With a passionate desire
To hunt the rats in my dreams.


I have seen how the cat asleep
Would undulate, how the night flowed 
Through it like dark water and at times, 
It was going to fall or possibly 
Plunge into the bare deserted snowdrifts.


Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
Like a tiger's great-grandfather,
And would leap in the darkness over
Rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.


Sleep, sleep cat of the night with 
Episcopal ceremony and your stone-carved moustache.

Take care of all our dreams
Control the obscurity
Of our slumbering prowess
With your relentless HEART
And the great ruff of your tail.




Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Minstrels - William Wordsworth


    Medieval Bard, Minstrel, Frans Hals























    The minstrels played their Christmas tune
    To-night beneath my cottage-eaves;
    While, smitten by a lofty moon,
    The encircling laurels, thick with leaves,
    Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,
    That overpowered their natural green.

    Through hill and valley every breeze
    Had sunk to rest with folded wings:
    Keen was the air, but could not freeze,
    Nor check, the music of the strings;
    So stout and hardy were the band
    That scraped the chords with strenuous hand.

    And who but listened?—till was paid
    Respect to every inmate’s claim,
    The greeting given, the music played
    In honour of each household name,
    Duly pronounced with lusty call,
    And “Merry Christmas” wished to all. 




    William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

Monday, September 26, 2016

All the World's a Stage - William Shakespeare......

Miranda - the Tempest

















All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.


William Shakespeare 1564-1616




Tuesday, June 28, 2016

There is another sky - Emily Dickinson






There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come! 
Emily Dickinson (1880-1886)  
photo: gb 

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

On May Morning - John Milton







Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing,
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

John Milton, Song -- On May Morning







photo:grethe bachmann

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

William Wordsworth - I wandered lonely as a Cloud....

    




















I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.



William Wordsworth (1770-1850) 





photo: gb