a request (and the obligatory poem)
Dec. 8th, 2004 08:43 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
emyuhlie.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
greatpoetryhey, guys, i need a favor. a friend of mine needs a poem to quote for his girlfriend's christmas present...something about stars, or the uniqueness of stars or someone...you know, something all romantical like that.
and the poem, as promised.
The Brawl
-Federico Garcia Lorca
Half-down the ravine the curving knives
From Albacete town
With rival bloods made beautiful
Like fishes flash around.
A hard flat light of playing card
Against the bitter green
Outlines the horsemen in profile
And horses wild and mean.
There in the crown of an olive tree
Two ancient women bawl.
The bull of the brawl rears up his head
And starts to climb the walls.
Dark angels were bringing handkerchiefs
And melted snow as aids;
Dark angels with great curving wings
Of Albacete blades.
Juan Antonio from Montilla town
Rolls down the slope, life fled,
His body marked with iris blooms,
His brow pomegranate red,
Then mounts a cross of fire and takes
The highroad of the dead.
The judge comes down through the olive grove,
With a Civil Guard along.
The blood slipper down begins to moan
A noiseless serpent song.
Gentlemen, you who keep the law,
It’s a story old and plain:
Four Romans here come down to death,
Five Carthaginians slain.
The afternoon with fig trees wild
And murmurs touched with heat
Upon the horsemen’s wounded thighs
Falls fainting in defeat.
And angels in black were flying around
In the deepening twilight air,
Angels with hearts of olive oil
And long, long braids of hair.
and the poem, as promised.
The Brawl
-Federico Garcia Lorca
Half-down the ravine the curving knives
From Albacete town
With rival bloods made beautiful
Like fishes flash around.
A hard flat light of playing card
Against the bitter green
Outlines the horsemen in profile
And horses wild and mean.
There in the crown of an olive tree
Two ancient women bawl.
The bull of the brawl rears up his head
And starts to climb the walls.
Dark angels were bringing handkerchiefs
And melted snow as aids;
Dark angels with great curving wings
Of Albacete blades.
Juan Antonio from Montilla town
Rolls down the slope, life fled,
His body marked with iris blooms,
His brow pomegranate red,
Then mounts a cross of fire and takes
The highroad of the dead.
The judge comes down through the olive grove,
With a Civil Guard along.
The blood slipper down begins to moan
A noiseless serpent song.
Gentlemen, you who keep the law,
It’s a story old and plain:
Four Romans here come down to death,
Five Carthaginians slain.
The afternoon with fig trees wild
And murmurs touched with heat
Upon the horsemen’s wounded thighs
Falls fainting in defeat.
And angels in black were flying around
In the deepening twilight air,
Angels with hearts of olive oil
And long, long braids of hair.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 02:15 am (UTC)Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:04 am (UTC)...long day. sorry.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:01 am (UTC)he could try doing a search for stars poems on the above site, or writing his own.
good luck!
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:29 am (UTC)(That sounds bad! The poem - er, well, the idea expressed in the poem wasn't.)
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:51 am (UTC)Here I Love You
Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.
Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.
The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:54 am (UTC)of course, i just love neruda, so...the love goes without saying.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-10 05:42 am (UTC)Neruda's poems are sublime.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 04:25 am (UTC)/classical!geek.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 04:38 am (UTC)...man, i miss my piano.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 03:38 pm (UTC)ee cummings
silently if, out of not knowable
night's utmost nothing,wanders a little guess
(only which is this world)more my life does
not leap than with the mystery your smile
sings or if(spiralling as luminous
they climb oblivion)voices who are dreams,
less into heaven certainly earth swims
than each my deeper death becomes your kiss
losing through you what seemed myself,i find
selves unimaginably mine;beyond
sorrow's own joys and hoping's very fears
yours is the light by which my spirit's born:
yours is the darkness of my soul's return
-you are my sun,my moon,and all my stars
And here's the whole Shakespeare quote that someone else had posted:
Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar;
but never doubt I love you.
I love thee, I love but thee with a love that shall not die.
Till the sun grows cold and the
stars grow old.
Lord Byron
CLXXIII. "She walks in beauty, like the night"
SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
D.H. Lawrence
In a Boat
From Amores, 1916.
See the stars, love,
In the water much clearer and brighter
Than those above us, and whiter,
Like nenuphars.
Star-shadows shine, love,
How many stars in your bowl?
How many shadows in your soul,
Only mine, love, mine?
When I move the oars, love,
See how the stars are tossed,
Distorted, the brightest lost.
-- So that bright one of yours, love.
The poor waters spill
The stars, waters broken, forsaken.
-- The heavens are not shaken, you say, love,
Its stars stand still.
There, did you see
That spark fly up at us; even
Stars are not safe in heaven.
-- What of yours, then, love, yours?
What then, love, if soon
Your light be tossed over a wave?
Will you count the darkness a grave,
And swoon, love, swoon?
no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-09 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-10 04:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-10 04:18 am (UTC)just...not right now. OMGSOMUCHWORKDUETOMORROW.
*scampers away*