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Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
321–330 of 369 posts
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#322Goethe (german), here's a translation of the Zauberlehrling (The Sorcerer's Apprentice)
That old sorcerer has vanished
And for once has gone away!
Spirits called by him, now banished,
My commands shall soon obey.
Every step and saying
That he used, I know,
And with sprites obeying
My arts I will show.
Flow, flow onward
Stretches many
Spare not any
Water rushing,
Ever streaming fully downward
Toward the pool in current gushing.
Come, old broomstick, you are needed,
Take these rags and wrap them round you!
Long my orders you have heeded,
By my wishes now I've bound you.
Have two legs and stand,
And a head for you.
Run, and in your hand
Hold a bucket too.
Flow, flow onward
Stretches many,
Spare not any
Water rushing,
Ever streaming fully downward
Toward the pool in current gushing.
See him, toward the shore he's racing
There, he's at the stream already,
Back like lightning he is chasing,
Pouring water fast and steady.
Once again he hastens!
How the water spills,
How the water basins
Brimming full he fills!
Stop now, hear me!
Ample measure
Of your treasure
We have gotten!
Ah, I see it, dear me, dear me.
Master's word I have forgotten!
Ah, the word with which the master
Makes the broom a broom once more!
Ah, he runs and fetches faster!
Be a broomstick as before!
Ever new the torrents
That by him are fed,
Ah, a hundred currents
Pour upon my head!
No, no longer
Can I please him,
I will seize him!
That is spiteful!
My misgivings grow the stronger.
What a mien, his eyes how frightful!
Brood of hell, you're not a mortal!
Shall the entire house go under?
Over threshold over portal
Streams of water rush and thunder.
Broom accurst and mean,
Who will have his will,
Stick that you have been,
Once again stand still!
Can I never, Broom, appease you?
I will seize you,
Hold and whack you,
And your ancient wood
I'll sever,
With a whetted axe I'll crack you.
He returns, more water dragging!
Now I'll throw myself upon you!
Soon, 0 goblin, you'll be sagging.
Crash! The sharp axe has undone you.
What a good blow, truly!
There, he's split, I see.
Hope now rises newly,
And my breathing's free.
Woe betide me!
Both halves scurry
In a hurry,
Rise like towers
There beside me.
Help me, help, eternal powers!
Off they run, till wet and wetter
Hall and steps immersed are Iying.
What a flood that naught can fetter!
Lord and master, hear me crying! -
Ah, he comes excited.
Sir, my need is sore.
Spirits that I've cited
My commands ignore.
"To the lonely
Corner, broom!
Hear your doom.
As a spirit
When he wills, your master only
Calls you, then 'tis time to hear it."Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#323The recently passed Tomas Tranströmer, I love his writing. He can go from personal headspace to outer space in a cherry blossom in a moment during a car crash:
--
After a Death
(translated by Robert Bly)
Once there was a shock
that left behind a long, shimmering comet tail.
It keeps us inside. It makes the TV pictures snowy.
It settles in cold drops on the telephone wires.
One can still go slowly on skis in the winter sun
through brush where a few leaves hang on.
They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories.
Names swallowed by the cold.
It is still beautiful to hear the heart beat
but often the shadow seems more real than the body.
The samurai looks insignificant
beside his armor of black dragon scales.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#324Baudelaire, a une passante: La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait. Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse, Une femme passa, d'une main fastueuse Soulevant, balançant le feston et l'ourlet ; Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue. Moi, je buvais, crispé comme un extravagant, Dans son oeil, ciel livide où germe l'ouragan, La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue. Un éclair... puis la nuit ! - Fug…
Hovis Presley is my favourite:
I rely on you
I rely on you like a Skoda needs suspension like the aged need a pension like a trampoline needs tension like a bungee jump needs apprehension I rely on you like a camera needs a shutter like a gambler needs a flutter like a golfer needs a putter like a buttered scone involves some butter I rely on you like an acrobat needs ice cool nerve like a hairpin needs a drastic curve like an HGV needs endless derv like an outside left needs a body swerve I rely on you like a handyman needs pliers like an auctioneer needs buyers like a laundromat needs driers like The Good Life needed Richard Briers I rely on you like a water vole needs water like a brick outhouse needs mortar like a lemming to the slaughter Ryan's just Ryan without his daughter I rely on you
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#325Hovis Presley:
I rely on you
I rely on you
like a Skoda needs suspension
like the aged need a pension
like a trampoline needs tension
like a bungee jump needs apprehension
I rely on you
like a camera needs a shutter
like a gambler needs a flutter
like a golfer needs a putter
like a buttered scone involves some butter
I rely on you
like an acrobat needs ice cool nerve
like a hairpin needs a drastic curve
like an HGV needs endless derv
like an outside left needs a body swerve
I rely on you
like a handyman needs pliers
like an auctioneer needs buyers
like a laundromat needs driers
like The Good Life needed Richard Briers
I rely on you
like a water vole needs water
like a brick outhouse needs mortar
like a lemming to the slaughter
Ryan's just Ryan without his daughter
I rely on you
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#326So many... but recently... Shelley, Ozymandias: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that…
The Second Coming. It is beyond extraordinary. The power of the images is utterly breathtaking. However, your version does not have the words of the poem as it's generally published. I've never seen your version. Italics below show the more common wording. "When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi / Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert / A shape with lion body and the head of a man, / A gaze blank and p…
You're right... I copied it from the top search result (http://www.potw.org/archive/potw351.html), which seems to be the 1920 version. There have been others since, and Wikipedia uses the newer wording.
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#327Rumi (on Conscience)
This that we are now created the body, cell by cell, like bees building a honeycomb.
The human body and the universe grew from this, not this from the universe and the human body.
... and Allen Ginsberg
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#328I love many poets and poetry.Two that I would like to share with HN commuity at this time would be - Rumi and Gulzar Rumi said things like Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. Rumi: Meet you there Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.I 'll meet you there. Rumi: Silence There is a way between voice and presence where information flows. In discipl…
I love it, mostly Rumi. It's like motivational poetry, for the nerds from 800 years ago. “If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” - Rumi “Sit, be still, and listen, because you're drunk and we're at the edge of the roof.” ― Rumi
If you ever take a Sufi Islam class, it is introductions to quotes of Rumi like these that will ruin you forever.
God I love his work. There is a whole school of Sufi sects known as drunk Sufis, drunk on their love of God, so to speak, and Rumi is a fantastic artistic characterization of their mindset.
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#329E.E. Cummings, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. One of Cummings's short poems that I enjoy: should this fool die let someone fond of living lay in his left hand a flower whose glory by no mind ever was taught how to grow
A few mentions of Hopkins in this thread, but too few examples.
So, Heaven Haven:
I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail,
And a few lilies blow.
And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.
ELECTED Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlèd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.
Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb:
It is the shut, the curfew sent
From there where all surrenders come
Which only makes you eloquent.
Be shellèd, eyes, with double dark
And find the uncreated light:
This ruck and reel which you remark
Coils, keeps, and teases simple sight.
Palate, the hutch of tasty lust,
Desire not to be rinsed with wine:
The can must be so sweet, the crust
So fresh that come in fasts divine!
Nostrils, your careless breath that spend
Upon the stir and keep of pride,
What relish shall the censers send
Along the sanctuary side!
O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet
That want the yield of plushy sward,
But you shall walk the golden street
And you unhouse and house the Lord.
And, Poverty, be thou the bride
And now the marriage feast begun,
And lily-coloured clothes provide
Your spouse not laboured-at nor spun.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#330Happy indeed we live, friendly amidst the hostile. Amidst hostile men we dwell free from hatred.
Happy indeed we live, friendly amidst the afflicted (by craving). Amidst afflicted men we dwell free from affliction.
Happy indeed we live, free from avarice amidst the avaricious. Amidst the avaricious men we dwell free from avarice.
Happy indeed we live, we who possess nothing. Feeders on joy we shall be, like the Radiant Gods.
Victory begets enmity; the defeated dwell in pain. Happily the peaceful live, discarding both victory and defeat.
There is no fire like lust and no crime like hatred. There is no ill like the aggregates (of existence) and no bliss higher than the peace (of Nibbana). [17]
Hunger is the worst disease, conditioned things the worst suffering. Knowing this as it really is, the wise realize Nibbana, the highest bliss.
Health is the most precious gain and contentment the greatest wealth. A trustworthy person is the best kinsman, Nibbana the highest bliss.
Having savored the taste of solitude and peace (of Nibbana), pain-free and stainless he becomes, drinking deep the taste of the bliss of the Truth.
Good is it to see the Noble Ones; to live with them is ever blissful. One will always be happy by not encountering fools.
Indeed, he who moves in the company of fools grieves for longing. Association with fools is ever painful, like partnership with an enemy. But association with the wise is happy, like meeting one's own kinsmen.
Therefore, follow the Noble One, who is steadfast, wise, learned, dutiful and devout. One should follow only such a man, who is truly good and discerning, even as the moon follows the path of the stars.
-- Sukhavagga: Happiness http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/dhp/dhp.15.budd.h...