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Poetry Wanted: Seasons of a2k.

 
 
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 02:37 pm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPHtQn1t1n4
(A little mood music)
Hello Poets and Antipoets of Able2Know!

Its autumn of course. The best way to spread this cyclical love is to spread around a timely poem. Hopefully, this thread will thrive throughout the 4 seasons and become the official repository for our seasonal expressions. [sorry if that sounds a tad corny Embarrassed ]

Release a seasonal poem of yours or from someone you read and love here.

http://i37.tinypic.com/9u271c.jpg
I'll rake up the first batch of leaves with my own poem:
Cantata for Autumn

A litany of falling leaves collecting their own offertory
A fugue of stars unfettered by the chilled air twinkle vivace
The moon moves accelerando toward it harvest cadence
While these pedestrians keep up their allegro tempo towards home
This seasonal concerto relies on the fires of the horn section
to keep the chill of the staccato strings at bay.

© Stephen Atwood 04 Oct. 2002
 
Letty
 
  2  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 06:09 pm
@tsarstepan,
A Vagabond Song
By Bliss Carman
1861-1929

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood --
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

tsarstepan, I wrote an original poem about Autumn. Should you like to read it, I will give you the link.
tsarstepan
 
  1  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 06:30 pm
@Letty,
Link, s'il vous plait. I would love to read your poem. Based on this wonderful work of poetry you introduced me to, clearly your poetic senses and sensibilities far transcend my own. I'm eager to read you seasonal ode.
Letty
 
  2  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 06:37 pm
@tsarstepan,
I am just glad that poetry is once more important here, tsarstepan

Here's the link, and djjd has beautiful photo's to go with it.

http://able2know.org/topic/136602-1
0 Replies
 
dlowan
 
  2  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 07:01 pm
@Letty,

John Keats - To Autumn
I

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.


II

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.


III

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.










(Of course, it's spring here....but I don't DO seasonal poetry really)
tsarstepan
 
  1  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 07:34 pm
@dlowan,
What you shown me is that I need to read more Keats. Thank you. And I hope the beginnings of your spring time is an auspicious and notable one. Smile
dlowan
 
  1  
Reply Sun 4 Oct, 2009 07:59 pm
@tsarstepan,
So far it is a cold and wet one....but Keats is a treasure.
0 Replies
 
Letty
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 08:29 am
@dlowan,
"to bend with apples the mossd cottage trees" Damn, Deb. I had forgotten how much I love Keats.
0 Replies
 
Gargamel
 
  2  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 09:31 am
The Artist's Confiteor--Baudelaire

How poignant the late afternoons of autumn! Ah! poignant to the verge of pain, for there are certain delicious sensations which are no less intense for being vague; and there is no sharper point than that of Infinity.

What bliss to plunge the eyes into the immensity of sky and sea! Solitude, silence, incomparable chastity of the blue! a tiny sail shivering on the horizon, imitating by its littleness and loneliness my irremediable existence, monotonous melody of the waves, all these things think through me or I through them (for in the grandeur of reverie the ego is quickly lost!) ; I say they think, but musically and picturesquely, without quibblings, without syllogisms, without deductions.

These thoughts, whether they come from me or spring from things, soon, at all events, grow too intense. Energy in voluptuousness creates uneasiness and actual pain. My nerves are strung to such a pitch that they can no longer give out anything but shrill and painful vibrations.

And now the profound depth of the sky dismays me; its purity irritates me. The insensibility of the sea, the immutability of the whole spectacle revolt me ... Ah! must one eternally suffer, or else eternally flee beauty? Nature, pitiless sorceress, ever victorious rival, do let me be! Stop tempting my desires and my pride! The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist shrieks with terror before being overcome.
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 11:24 am
@Gargamel,
Ah! That one I know but it's the first time I see it in English..
Gargamel
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 12:08 pm
@Francis,
When I first discovered Baudelaire, I wished I hadn't goofed off so much in my high school French class. A shame.
Tai Chi
 
  2  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 12:30 pm
Autumn Leaves

The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sun-burned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Gy5GUYC3Ug
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 12:31 pm
@Tai Chi,
That one is French too..
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 12:32 pm
@Gargamel,
I hope it will not come to haunt you for the rest of your life..
0 Replies
 
Tai Chi
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 12:56 pm
@Francis,
Francis wrote:

That one is French too..


Interesting, Francis, I just looked up the lyrics in French. I've only ever heard the "break" and not the verses in French and so I didn't realize they referred to autumn as well.
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 01:05 pm
@Tai Chi,
The lyrics in English are not a translation but a different version..

Here is a translation of the original French lyrics:

Oh! I would like as much as you remember
The happy days where we were friends.
In this time the life was more beautiful,
And the sun more burning than today.
The dead leaves collected with the shovel.
You see, I did not forget...
The dead leaves collected with the shovel,
The memories and the regrets also
And the wind of North carries them
In the cold night of the lapse of memory.
You see, I did not forget
The song that you sang me.

This is a song which resembles to us.
You, you loved me and I loved you
And we lived both together,
You who loved me, me who loved you.
But the life separate those which love themselves,
All softly, without making noise
And the sea erases on the sand
The Steps of divided lovers.

The dead leaves collected with the shovel,
The memories and the regrets also
But my quiet and faithful love
Smiles always and thanks the life
I loved you so much, you was so pretty.
Why do you want that I forget you ?
In this time, the life was more beautiful
And the sun more burning than today.
You were my softer friend
But I don't have only to make regrets
And the song than you sang,
Always, always I will hear it !

Tai Chi
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 01:11 pm
@Francis,
Thanks Francis, it is indeed, very different from the English version (and much prettier in French).
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 01:12 pm
@Tai Chi,
I have to say that I love that song..
Tai Chi
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 01:21 pm
@Francis,
Eva Cassidy does a beautiful job, doesn't she?

I really like the melody and the chorus lyrics are beautiful, if sad. I used to attempt the French version (chorus only as that's all I knew) many years ago with my Ontario accent. Nobody ever complained -- well, perhaps they were just being kind.
Francis
 
  1  
Reply Mon 5 Oct, 2009 01:45 pm
@Tai Chi,
Or perhaps they were just being honest...

Eva has a beautiful voice..
 

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