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Yellow Stars
Every year, they blossom again, punctually.
A creeping weed that is called moneywort,
and the tiny one, I think, wall-pepper.
So much that is yellow and will soon be gone.
Of those which keep their distance from us,
far out in cold space, it is said that they flare up
and burn out like birthday sparklers.
Some stars, when the wind dies down,
hang from flagpoles, limply. Another one
arose, long ago, in the Gospels.
When I was a child, there were stars,
thin and crumpled on grey, worn overcoats.
Someone must have sewed them on.
It wasn’t my great-aunt Theresia who did it.
Other aunts, longsighted, thread in mouth,
bent over the eye of the needle.
So many stars. Don’t speak of them.
But they were yellow, yellow.
And then they vanished forever.
Written and translated by
Hans Magnus Enzensberger
Every year, they blossom again, punctually.
A creeping weed that is called moneywort,
and the tiny one, I think, wall-pepper.
So much that is yellow and will soon be gone.
Of those which keep their distance from us,
far out in cold space, it is said that they flare up
and burn out like birthday sparklers.
Some stars, when the wind dies down,
hang from flagpoles, limply. Another one
arose, long ago, in the Gospels.
When I was a child, there were stars,
thin and crumpled on grey, worn overcoats.
Someone must have sewed them on.
It wasn’t my great-aunt Theresia who did it.
Other aunts, longsighted, thread in mouth,
bent over the eye of the needle.
So many stars. Don’t speak of them.
But they were yellow, yellow.
And then they vanished forever.
Written and translated by
Hans Magnus Enzensberger
My favourite sonnet
Aug. 8th, 2012 06:13 pmWhen, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
One of my favourite poems
Jul. 16th, 2012 05:25 pmElectra, by Sally Purcell
'In my dream I stood in a grey land
that had never known tree or sun,
and a little crooked wind blew from nowhere
fretting my hair;
under tarnished heavy clouds
distance or direction were impossible,
no choice could hold meaning.
It was like the salt marshes that creation's gale
streams across in the blackness before day,
but here there was no sea,
here there could be no dawn.
And I slowly remembered fragments
of a life unimaginably distant,
of a child's past, in clefts of time's canyon
freakishly revealed -
my green dress, my toys and games,
all my broken morning.
This is everyman's unknown home, they
murmured,
end of journey for stylite and conquistador -
alone before a tomb in a faceless land,'
All this eternal while Orestes, avenger
is hastening down great roads to return to
that tomb.
'In my dream I stood in a grey land
that had never known tree or sun,
and a little crooked wind blew from nowhere
fretting my hair;
under tarnished heavy clouds
distance or direction were impossible,
no choice could hold meaning.
It was like the salt marshes that creation's gale
streams across in the blackness before day,
but here there was no sea,
here there could be no dawn.
And I slowly remembered fragments
of a life unimaginably distant,
of a child's past, in clefts of time's canyon
freakishly revealed -
my green dress, my toys and games,
all my broken morning.
This is everyman's unknown home, they
murmured,
end of journey for stylite and conquistador -
alone before a tomb in a faceless land,'
All this eternal while Orestes, avenger
is hastening down great roads to return to
that tomb.
Love poetry and quotes
May. 27th, 2012 03:42 pmI appear to be finding poems and love quotes today. I'm not sure why, but here are some more. I shall stop, I am sure, soon.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
Tune of Heavenly Home
May. 26th, 2012 04:56 amOuting in spring,
Almond flower petals in the air.
The wind lent them wing,
To adorn my hair.
Whose youth is that over there?
Perfectly handsome and fair!
I intend to condescend
Myself, offering him my hand
For life, and then,
Even if I be cast aside in the end,
There’s no cause for me to repent.
Wei Zhuang
Almond flower petals in the air.
The wind lent them wing,
To adorn my hair.
Whose youth is that over there?
Perfectly handsome and fair!
I intend to condescend
Myself, offering him my hand
For life, and then,
Even if I be cast aside in the end,
There’s no cause for me to repent.
Wei Zhuang
Tune of Heavenly Home
May. 26th, 2012 04:56 amOuting in spring,
Almond flower petals in the air.
The wind lent them wing,
To adorn my hair.
Whose youth is that over there?
Perfectly handsome and fair!
I intend to condescend
Myself, offering him my hand
For life, and then,
Even if I be cast aside in the end,
There’s no cause for me to repent.
Wei Zhuang
Almond flower petals in the air.
The wind lent them wing,
To adorn my hair.
Whose youth is that over there?
Perfectly handsome and fair!
I intend to condescend
Myself, offering him my hand
For life, and then,
Even if I be cast aside in the end,
There’s no cause for me to repent.
Wei Zhuang
A pretty poem
May. 23rd, 2012 06:15 pm“I am no king, and I am no lord,
And I am no soldier at-arms," said he.
"I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper,
That am come hither to wed with ye."
"If you were a lord, you should be my lord,
And the same if you were a thief," said she.
"And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper,
For it makes no matter to me, to me,
For it makes no matter to me."
"But what if it prove that I am no harper?
That I lied for your love most monstrously?"
"Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing,
For I dearly love a good harp," said she.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
And I am no soldier at-arms," said he.
"I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper,
That am come hither to wed with ye."
"If you were a lord, you should be my lord,
And the same if you were a thief," said she.
"And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper,
For it makes no matter to me, to me,
For it makes no matter to me."
"But what if it prove that I am no harper?
That I lied for your love most monstrously?"
"Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing,
For I dearly love a good harp," said she.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
A pretty poem
May. 23rd, 2012 06:15 pm“I am no king, and I am no lord,
And I am no soldier at-arms," said he.
"I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper,
That am come hither to wed with ye."
"If you were a lord, you should be my lord,
And the same if you were a thief," said she.
"And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper,
For it makes no matter to me, to me,
For it makes no matter to me."
"But what if it prove that I am no harper?
That I lied for your love most monstrously?"
"Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing,
For I dearly love a good harp," said she.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
And I am no soldier at-arms," said he.
"I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper,
That am come hither to wed with ye."
"If you were a lord, you should be my lord,
And the same if you were a thief," said she.
"And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper,
For it makes no matter to me, to me,
For it makes no matter to me."
"But what if it prove that I am no harper?
That I lied for your love most monstrously?"
"Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing,
For I dearly love a good harp," said she.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
“Who am I?”
Jan. 24th, 2012 03:53 pmI found this today while looking for poems.
It was written by one of the men who was involved with a plot to assassinate Hitler. He wrote it while he was waiting for his execution. I find it amazingly moving, and it always makes me think.
Someone mentioned it today on a CiF thread which can be found here, in which there was a discussion on courage. I think everyone should read that thread. Some of the stories there have really changed my day, and given me the most amazing sense of perspective.
The world really is a big and amazing place, and human beings are both bastards, and the most incredible creatures.
( Read more... )
It was written by one of the men who was involved with a plot to assassinate Hitler. He wrote it while he was waiting for his execution. I find it amazingly moving, and it always makes me think.
Someone mentioned it today on a CiF thread which can be found here, in which there was a discussion on courage. I think everyone should read that thread. Some of the stories there have really changed my day, and given me the most amazing sense of perspective.
The world really is a big and amazing place, and human beings are both bastards, and the most incredible creatures.
( Read more... )
Five Good Things
Jan. 23rd, 2012 09:04 pmSo, I just had a bit of a mini-explosion of rage about some stupid society stuff, which was, at least, a definite improvement on my horrid bleak hole of misery over the weekend.
However, I not going to let this warp my evening, for so far it has been lovely. I have![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unifex, andyrebranded, ksirafai, and castorlion over, and myself and Andy just celebrated an early Burns Night with haggis, neeps and tatties, followed with cheesecake for all.
I am going to see owls soon withfaerierhona and this is making me remarkably happy, and I've had e mail conversations today with unifex, jholloway and spydacarnage, who are all good conversationalists which is an excellent thing.
This weekend it's my kid sister's birthday and I hopefully will get to have a lovely weekend seeing my family, and getting away from all of life's stresses and trauma.
Then the weekend after that, it's my birthday and I have a day planned with my sisters on a ceramics course which is my birthday/Christmas present from them. In theory we also still have a spa day to plan as well, which is my stepmother's present to all three of us, although finding a weekend when we're all available is proving an exciting challenge.
And these are all awesome and wonderful things.
I shall not, therefore, mope or whinge. I shall instead think about the good stuff in life and imagine what awesome things tomorrow might bring.
And just to finish it all off, I wrote a silly haiku.
( Read more... )
However, I not going to let this warp my evening, for so far it has been lovely. I have
unifex, andyrebranded, ksirafai, and castorlion over, and myself and Andy just celebrated an early Burns Night with haggis, neeps and tatties, followed with cheesecake for all. I am going to see owls soon with
faerierhona and this is making me remarkably happy, and I've had e mail conversations today with unifex, jholloway and spydacarnage, who are all good conversationalists which is an excellent thing.This weekend it's my kid sister's birthday and I hopefully will get to have a lovely weekend seeing my family, and getting away from all of life's stresses and trauma.
Then the weekend after that, it's my birthday and I have a day planned with my sisters on a ceramics course which is my birthday/Christmas present from them. In theory we also still have a spa day to plan as well, which is my stepmother's present to all three of us, although finding a weekend when we're all available is proving an exciting challenge.
And these are all awesome and wonderful things.
I shall not, therefore, mope or whinge. I shall instead think about the good stuff in life and imagine what awesome things tomorrow might bring.
And just to finish it all off, I wrote a silly haiku.
( Read more... )
Five Good Things
Jan. 23rd, 2012 09:04 pmSo, I just had a bit of a mini-explosion of rage about some stupid society stuff, which was, at least, a definite improvement on my horrid bleak hole of misery over the weekend.
However, I not going to let this warp my evening, for so far it has been lovely. I haveunifex, andyrebranded, ksirafai, and castorlion over, and myself and Andy just celebrated an early Burns Night with haggis, neeps and tatties, followed with cheesecake for all.
I am going to see owls soon withfaerierhona and this is making me remarkably happy, and I've had e mail conversations today with unifex, jholloway and spydacarnage, who are all good conversationalists which is an excellent thing.
This weekend it's my kid sister's birthday and I hopefully will get to have a lovely weekend seeing my family, and getting away from all of life's stresses and trauma.
Then the weekend after that, it's my birthday and I have a day planned with my sisters on a ceramics course which is my birthday/Christmas present from them. In theory we also still have a spa day to plan as well, which is my stepmother's present to all three of us, although finding a weekend when we're all available is proving an exciting challenge.
And these are all awesome and wonderful things.
I shall not, therefore, mope or whinge. I shall instead think about the good stuff in life and imagine what awesome things tomorrow might bring.
And just to finish it all off, I wrote a silly haiku.
( Read more... )
However, I not going to let this warp my evening, for so far it has been lovely. I have
unifex, andyrebranded, ksirafai, and castorlion over, and myself and Andy just celebrated an early Burns Night with haggis, neeps and tatties, followed with cheesecake for all. I am going to see owls soon with
faerierhona and this is making me remarkably happy, and I've had e mail conversations today with unifex, jholloway and spydacarnage, who are all good conversationalists which is an excellent thing.This weekend it's my kid sister's birthday and I hopefully will get to have a lovely weekend seeing my family, and getting away from all of life's stresses and trauma.
Then the weekend after that, it's my birthday and I have a day planned with my sisters on a ceramics course which is my birthday/Christmas present from them. In theory we also still have a spa day to plan as well, which is my stepmother's present to all three of us, although finding a weekend when we're all available is proving an exciting challenge.
And these are all awesome and wonderful things.
I shall not, therefore, mope or whinge. I shall instead think about the good stuff in life and imagine what awesome things tomorrow might bring.
And just to finish it all off, I wrote a silly haiku.
( Read more... )
A pretty poem I found last night
Jun. 8th, 2010 08:18 amOde - Arthur O'Shaughnessy
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
It's a very simple little poem, possibly bordering on the twee, but I like it. It's got a nice melody to it, and some pretty imagery. And those of you who are far too sophisticated to appreciate it can all be quite and leave me to my little snippets of fireside poetry.
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
It's a very simple little poem, possibly bordering on the twee, but I like it. It's got a nice melody to it, and some pretty imagery. And those of you who are far too sophisticated to appreciate it can all be quite and leave me to my little snippets of fireside poetry.
A pretty poem I found last night
Jun. 8th, 2010 08:18 amOde - Arthur O'Shaughnessy
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
It's a very simple little poem, possibly bordering on the twee, but I like it. It's got a nice melody to it, and some pretty imagery. And those of you who are far too sophisticated to appreciate it can all be quite and leave me to my little snippets of fireside poetry.
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
It's a very simple little poem, possibly bordering on the twee, but I like it. It's got a nice melody to it, and some pretty imagery. And those of you who are far too sophisticated to appreciate it can all be quite and leave me to my little snippets of fireside poetry.
Probably my favourite poem...
Jul. 27th, 2009 06:59 pmSo, I've been off sick today with a fever. This has left me with time to ponder.
As a result, please have one of my favourite poems ever.
( Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird )
As a result, please have one of my favourite poems ever.
( Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird )
