MoonDancer
Clansman
"Voices are calling from somewhere below"
Posts: 384
|
Post by MoonDancer on Sept 19, 2006 22:49:11 GMT 2
I searched for a thread for poems, but I couldn't find one. I bet almost all of you have some fave poems or quotations, so let's share them. Here's one of my favourite poems:
[IF]
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling
|
|
RegShoe
Wolfcub
Proud member of the Schnitzel engineering union.
Posts: 46
|
Post by RegShoe on Sept 19, 2006 23:57:23 GMT 2
One of my favorite quotes is by Mark Twain, and it goes like this: If I cannot smoke cigars in heaven, I shall not go.
|
|
|
Post by CrazyMary on Sept 20, 2006 0:26:33 GMT 2
MoonDancer: Very inspirational poem, I remember reading it a few years ago. I have been collecting quotes and excerpts for several years, so I should have a few to add to this thread over time. But for now: "Come to the edge, he said. They said: We are afraid. They came. He pushed them... and they flew." - Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)
|
|
|
Post by DaveTheRake on Sept 20, 2006 0:46:44 GMT 2
Let me contribute with one poem that people like me should try to follow more exahustively. Very good idea Moonie!
O Me! O Life! (W. Whitman)
O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the foolish; Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the struggle ever renew'd; Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me; Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me intertwined; The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
|
|
|
Post by twilightheart on Sept 20, 2006 21:28:36 GMT 2
Good idea for a topic! Thanks!
I don`t know the English originals, I can only translate my favourite sayings freely:
The poet understands nature better than the scientist does.
Or from Leo Tolstoi: Happiness doesn`t mean that you can do whatever you want. Happiness means, that you WANT whatever you do.
|
|
|
Post by varjotuuli on Sept 22, 2006 13:11:12 GMT 2
I really like much poems ( also i like to write self ) , but one of my favourite poems is from the buddhism:
(i tried to translate it from german so i hope the meaning will be understand)
Knowledge means to know, how you call something into question, even if you already know it. Walking knowledge means to continue learning, even if you have undergo the knowledge.
|
|
|
Post by Sankarihauta on Sept 22, 2006 15:17:54 GMT 2
These ones are quotes out of a book and are just quotations and no real poems.. and in Finnish..I try to translate it roughly in the end.
Volter Kilpi, Bathseba, 1902
XLIX
Yö on tyhjä ympärillä, ja tyhjyys humisee huoneessa, ja kun minä ylös uskallan katsoa , niin on kaikki tyhjää minun ympärilläni. Tyhjä, tyhjä on kaikki, ja elämä avautuu tyhjänä eteen. Minä istun kyyrityneenä istuimellani ja tunnen..tunnen että hän on poissa, ja että nyt on tyhjyys.
( The night is empty all around and emptiness rushes in the room, and as I dare to look up, everything is empty around me. Empty, empty everything is, and life opens being empty further on. I remain seated crouching down and feel... feel that she's away, and that now there is emptiness)
LXII
Voi, nyt minä olen uuden morsiamen itselleni löytänyt, ja nyt minä rakastan kuolemaa. Sillä uuden rakkauden minä olen oppinut ja se uusi rakkaus on ottanut minun kokonansa. Voi, valju kuolema, voi, minun morsiameni, tule, sillä minä olen polvillani ja odotan sinua, tule, sinun syleilyäsi minä odotan, oma morsiameni. Missä sinä viivyt, sinä kuolema! Oi, sinun sylisi olisi vilvoitus minulle , tule ja suutele minua sydämelleni, että sen vaiva lievittyisi, tule, ja ota minut, sillä polvillani minä sinun tulemistasi odotan. Minun uusi morsiameni, suloinen kuolema.
(Oh, now I have found a new woman for me, and now I love Death. During this new love I have learned and this new love claimed all of me. Oh, pale death, oh, my bride, come, in this I am on my knees and await you, come, your embrace I long for, my own woman. Where do you rest, you death! Oh, your arms would mean refuge to me, come and kiss my heart, for that it's mourning for your alleviation, come and take me, on my knees I await your arrival. My new bride, sweet death.)
|
|
MoonDancer
Clansman
"Voices are calling from somewhere below"
Posts: 384
|
Post by MoonDancer on Sept 26, 2006 23:24:05 GMT 2
This is one of my favourite Hungarian poems, written by Endre Ady, a famous poet. (At least he is taught in schools and he was one of the leading personalities of the literal life at the beginning of the 1900s)
Szeretném ha szeretnének
Sem utódja, sem boldog õse, Sem rokona, sem ismerõse Nem vagyok senkinek, Nem vagyok senkinek.
Vagyok, mint minden ember: fenség, Észak fok, titok, idegenség, Lidérces, messze fény, Lidérces, messze fény.
De jaj, nem tudok, így maradni, Szeretném magam megmutatni, Hogy látva lássanak, Hogy látva lássanak.
Ezért minden : önkínzás, ének: Szeretném, hogyha szeretnének S lennék valakié, S lennék valakié.
Here's an official English translation: Longing for Love
Neither the issue nor the sire, neither fulfilment nor desire am I for anyone, am I for anyone.
I am as all men, the sunless sea, the alien thule, mystery, a fleeing wisp of light, a fleeing wisp of light.
But I must look for friends and brothers; I want to show myself to others that seeing they will see, that seeing they will see.
For this my lyric masochism; I long to close the gaping schism, and thus belong somewhere, and thus belong somewhere. (1909)
|
|
|
Post by CrazyMary on Oct 10, 2006 15:32:17 GMT 2
MoonDancer: That poem reminds me of John Donne's "no man is an island" poem, the one that ends "ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee". There's a similar sentiment about wanting to be part of things. Here's another few favourite quotes of mine: Herman Hesse - The Glass Bead Game"In the still, twilight corridor it sounded so lonely and unworldly, and so brave and innocent also, both childlike and superior, as all good music must in the midst of the unredeemed muteness of the world." "The notes fell into the stillness like drops of golden twilight...Gentley, austerely, sparingly, sweetly, the lovely separate voices met and mingled; bravely and gaily they paced their tender rondo through the void of time and transitoriness, for a little while making the room and the night hour vast as the universe. " Alan Bennet (English playwright): Habeus Corpus"My life I squandered waiting Then let my chance go by." Edgar Allan Poe: The Pit and the PendulumIn the deepest slumber--no! In the delirium--no! In death--no! even in the grave all is not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Enough for now
|
|
|
Post by shmotz43 on Oct 12, 2006 22:56:14 GMT 2
Here is some I know (Including my own classic)
1st my classic "is it not?" or "is she not?" or "is he not?"
Now for quotes from other people
"tom.. your not in the bathroom" "yeh I know" "dude your not in the bathroom" yeah sorry um.. I signed.. the ..contract" "what it is" "oh Jesus"
"we're here to see Mushroomhead! are you in the band huh? are you in the band? you boys gonna sign stuff for me and my boys, We're drove all this way to come and see you boys" (I do that at every show I go to, but change the Mushroomhead for the band I'm seeing)
"damn those and some nice boots, only 39.99 you know they gotta be leather" "presto bitch"
Your not getting away from us bitch! thats fucking news paper in your bunch bitch"
"Fucking new guy better back the fuck down"
"don't bullshit me!"
|
|
lumi
Wolfcub
Hirwet
Posts: 35
|
Post by lumi on Oct 12, 2006 23:24:21 GMT 2
@jmann: Sorry but I didn't understand anything of your message. I think the idea of this topic is to write some poems and quotations from literature sources or from some writers and their sayings, like others have already done here... You could at least tell your sources 'cause I think others understand just as much as I do which means nothing... And to the topic. I don't if you can call this poem very beautiful but it is absolutely wonderful and great poem, and must be read with humor I just love this poem! I know some beautiful ones in Finnish but I don't know how to translate them... This I have at home already in English. Roald Dahl: The Cow The Cow Please listen while I tell you now About a most fantastic cow Miss Milky Daisy was her name And when, aged seven months, she came To live with us, she did her best To look the same as all the rest. But Daisy, as we all could see Had some kind of deformity, A funny sort of bumby lump On either side, above the rump. Now, not so very long ago, These bumby lumps began to grow, And three or maybe four months later, (I stood there, an enthralled spectator) These bumby lumps burst wide apart And out there came (I cross my heart) Of all the wondrous marvellous things, A pair of gold and silver wings! A cow with wings! A flying cow! I've never seen one up to now. "Oh, Daisy dear, can this be true?" She flabbed her wings and up she flew! Most gracefully she climbed up high, She fairlywhizzed across the sky. You should have seen her dive and swoop! Of course, almost immediately Her picture was on live T.V., And millions came each day to stare At Milky Daisy in the air. They shouted "Jeepers Creepers! Wow! "It really is a flying cow!" They laughed and clapped and cheered and waved, And all of them were well-behaved Except for one guite horrid man Who'd travelled from Afganistan. This fellow, standing in the crowd, Raised up his voice and yelled aloud, "That silly cow! Hey listen Daidy! "I think you're absolutely crazy!" Unfortunately Daisy heard Quite clearly every single word. "By gosh," she cried, "Take that!" she said, And dropped a cowpat on his head. ;D ;D
|
|
|
Post by HerraHirwi on Oct 13, 2006 1:22:27 GMT 2
@jmann: Read the issue of this thread a little more carefully and make yourself more understandable. If those are quotations from somewhere, you should definitely tell from which source they're from. When your post lies like this, it seems only as a babbling without decent contest.
So, here's one of my favourite poems:
Iso Härkä - trad.
Härkä kasvo kaunihisti, lihoi mulli liioitenki: pää hääly Hämeen päässä, häntä torkku Torniossa. Päiväkauden pääsky lensi, häpeheltä hännän päähän, kuukauden orava juoksi härjän sarvein väliä: eipä vielä päähän pääsnyt, ensinkänä ennättänyt
Free translation:
The ox grew with good looks The bull get fatter yet enough: It's head lied in the land of Häme It's tail sleeped in Tornio. Shallow flew one day From head to tail The squirrel run a month Between the bull's horns: Yet he's not there Yet he's not reached the destination
|
|
|
Post by Humppaporo on Oct 13, 2006 7:28:08 GMT 2
The poem in my subscript is from Tommi Tabermann. It's really beautiful. I looked for other translated poems of him, but could not find any. I think I just have to wait until I can understand those myself.
Mene metsään Mene vuorille Mene kauas merelle Anna yksinäisyyden hyväillä sinua Kunnes ihosi on kyllin ohut Niin ohut Että sydämesi Näkee sen läpi minut Että minä se olin Joka hyväilin, Hyväilen sinua, Mene, mene ........................................
Go to the forest Go to the mountains Go to the far off sea Let loneliness Caress you Until your skin is thin enough So thin that your heart Sees me though it That I was the one Who caressed you, Who caresses you Go, go.
Translation: Börje Vähämäki
|
|
|
Post by Lionheart on Oct 13, 2006 10:07:37 GMT 2
A poem by Rudyard Kipling who became famous with writing the Jungle Book.
The City of Sleep
Over the edge of the purple down, Where the single lamplight gleams, Know ye the road to the Merciful Town That is hard by the Sea of Dreams -- Where the poor may lay their wrongs away, And the sick may forget to weep? But we -- pity us! Oh, pity us! We wakeful; ah, pity us! -- We must go back with Policeman Day -- Back from the City of Sleep!
Weary they turn from the scroll and crown, Fetter and prayer and plough -- They that go up to the Merciful Town, For her gates are closing now. It is their right in the Baths of Night Body and soul to steep, But we -- pity us! ah, pity us! We wakeful; ah, pity us! -- We must go back with Policeman Day -- Back from the City of Sleep!
Over the edge of the purple down, Ere the tender dreams begin, Look -- we may look -- at the Merciful Town, But we may not enter in! Outcasts all, from her guarded wall Back to our watch we creep: We -- pity us! ah, pity us! We wakeful; ah, pity us! -- We that go back with Policeman Day -- Back from the City of Sleep!
Rudyard Kipling
|
|
|
Post by DaveTheRake on Oct 13, 2006 16:17:44 GMT 2
Maybe it's a bit long to be posted, but I like very much this Percy B. Shelley one. I specially love the last line, something to be reminded when you're deep in trouble or simply when you feel life could be better for you!
Ode To The West Wind
O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being— Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes!—O thou 5 Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill 10 (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill— Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere— Destroyer and Preserver—hear, O hear! Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion, 15 Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning! they are spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head 20 Of some fierce Mænad, ev'n from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height— The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, 25 Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst:—O hear! Thou who didst waken from his summer-dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, 30 Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers 35 So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know 40 Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear And tremble and despoil themselves:—O hear! If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share 45 The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable!—if even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed 50 Scarce seem'd a vision,—I would ne'er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. O lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd 55 One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and proud. Make me thy lyre, ev'n as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, 60 Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe, Like wither'd leaves, to quicken a new birth; And, by the incantation of this verse, 65 Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
|
|