Friday, October 7, 2016

Thursday, October 6, 2016

William Shakespeare (1564-1616) : "Sonnet CXIII"


Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,

And that which governs me to go about

Doth part his function, and is partly blind,



Seems seeing, but effectually is out;

For it no form delivers to the heart

Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:

Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,

Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch.



For if it see the rudest or gentlest sight,

The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,

The mountain or the sea,

       the day or night,

The crow or dove,


       it shapes them to your feature:




Incapable of more, replete with you,


my most true mind thus maketh mine |eye| untrue.





Sonnets
Shakespeare's Sonnets


Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Sophocles (c. 496 - 413 BC) : From "Antigone"

              CHORUS

                         I

Much is there passing strange ;
    Nothing surpassing mankind.
He it is loves to range
Over the ocean hoar,
Thorough the surges' roar,
     South winds raging behind ;


Earth,  too,  wears he away,
     The Mother of Gods on high,
Tireless, free from decay ;
With team he furrows the ground,
And the ploughs go round and round,
     As year on year goes by.   



Antigone

Monday, July 25, 2016

Sophocles (c. 496 - 413 BC) : From "Antigone"



ISMENE.   What is it ? I see you have some mystery.

ANTIGONE.    What !  has not Creon to the tomb preferred
                   One of our brothers, and with contumely
                   Withheld it from the other ?  Eteocles  
                   Duly, they say, even as by law was due,
                   He hid beneath the earth, rendering him honour
                   Among the dead below :  but the dead body
                   Of Polynices, miserably slain, 
                   They say it has been given out publicly
                   None may bewail, none bury, all must leave
                   Unwept, unsepulchred, a dainty prize
                   For fowl that watch, gloating upon their prey !
                   This is the matter he has had proclaimed -
                   Excellent Creon ! for your heed, they say, 
                   And mine, I tell you - mine ! and he moves hither,
                   Meaning to announce it plainly in the ears
                   Of such as do not know it, and to declare
                   It is not matter of small moment ;  he
                   Who does any of these things shall surely die ;
                   The citizens shall stone him in the streets.
                   So stands the case.  Now you will quickly show
                   If you are worthy of your birth or no.

ISMENE.  But O rash heart,  what good,  if it be thus,
                  Could I effect,  helping or hindering ?

ANTIGONE.   Look, will you join me ?   will you work with me ?

ISMENE.   In what attempt ?   What mean you ?

ANTIGONE.                                                                   Help me lift 

                    The body up -

ISMENE.                                 What, would you bury him ?
                   Against the proclamation ?

ANTIGONE.                                                   My own brother
                   And yours I will !   If you will not,  I will ;
                   I shall not prove disloyal. 

ISMENE.                                                      You are mad !
                  When Creon has forbidden it ?

ANTIGONE.                                                    From mine own
                   He has no right to stay me.

ISMENE.                                                     Alas, O sister,
                   Think how our father perished !  self-convict  -
                   Abhorred - dishonoured - blind - his eyes put out
                   By his own hand !  How she who was at once
                   His wife and mother with a knotted noose
                   Laid violent hands on her own life !   And how
                   Our two unhappy brothers in one day
                   Each on his own head by the other's hand
                   Wrought common ruin !   We now left alone -
                   Do but consider how most miserably
                   We too shall perish, if despite of law
                   We traverse the behest of power of kings.
                   We must remember we are women born,
                   Unapt to cope with men ;   and, being ruled
                   By mightier than ourselves, we have to hear
                   These things - and worse.   For my part, I will ask
                   Pardon of those beneath, for what perforce
                   I needs must do, but yield obedience
                   To them that walk in power ;  to exceed
                   Is madness, and not wisdom.

ANTIGONE.                                                       Then in future
                   I will not bid you help me ;  nor henceforth,
                   Though you desire, shall you, with my good will,
                   Share what I do.  Be what seems right to you ;
                   Him will I bury.  Death, so met, were honour ;
                   And for that capital crime of piety,
                   Loving and loved, I will lie by his side,
                   Far longer is there need I satisfy
                   Those nether Powers, than powers on earth ;   for there
                   For ever must I lie.  You, if you will,
                   Hold up to scorn what is approved of Heaven !

ISMENE.   I am not one to cover things with scorn ;
                   But I was born too feeble to contend
                   Against the state.

ANTIGONE.                                   Yes, you can put that forward ;
                   But I will go and heap a burial mound
                   Over my most dear brother.

ISMENE.                                                           My poor sister,
                   How beyond measure do I fear for you !

ANTIGONE.    Do not spend fear on me. Shape your own course.

ISMENE.   At least announce it, then, to nobody.
                   But keep it close,  as I will.

ANTIGONE.                                               Tell it, tell it !
                    You'll cross me worse, by far, if you keep silence -
                    Not publish it to all.

ISMENE.                                              Your heart beats hotly
                    For chilling work !

ANTIGONE.                                      I know that those approve
                    Whom I most need to please.

ISMENE.                                                             If you could do it !
                    But you desire impossibilities.

ANTIGONE.     Well,  when I find I have no power to stir,
                    I will cease trying.

ISMENE.                                         But things impossible
                   'This wrong to attempt at all.

ANTIGONE.                                                     If you will say it,
                   I shall detest you soon ;  and you will justly
                   Incur the dead man's hatred.   Suffer me
                   And my unwisdom to endure the weight
                   Of what is threatened.   I shall meet with nothing
                   More grievous, at the worst,  than death,  with honour.

ISMENE.  Then go, if you will have it :  and take this with you,
                  You go on a fool's errand !                          [Exit ANTIGONE.
                                                                   
                                                                   Lover true
                  To your beloved, none the less, are you !                     [Exit.




Antigone





Thursday, February 25, 2016

Lauro de Bosis (1901-1931): from "Icaro", The Third Act



            MINOS

Daughter!


            PHAEDRA

... if the daughter of the Master of the Sea has any right to
love, father, my blood and his are a single flame of love: dost
thou wish death for Phaedra also?  He is my betrothed.


            MINOS

Daughter, what dost thou say?  Thou, to love a man without
a crown?


            ICARUS


Lord of the Seas, thy crown reigns over the waters but my 
royal laurels have risen to the sky!


            PHAEDRA

The love of Phaedra is equal to a crown.


            DAEDALUS

King of the Islands, the sons of free Athens are all equal,
both citizens and kings.  With us Genius is the only crown.


            THE LEADER

King Minos, yield: in him all acknowledge a king.  Re-
member, the race of poets is sacred and song is a wondrous
realm.





Lauro de Bosis, "Icaro"

Silver Olympic Medal
Arts, Dramatic Works
Amsterdam 1928

Oxford University Press
London:Humphrey Milford 1933
Translation Ruth Draper
Icaro

Art Competitions at The Olympic Games


Saturday, February 13, 2016

W. S. Merwin (1927- ) : "By the Avenue"




Through the trees and across the river

with its surface the color of steel

on a rainy morning late in spring

the splintered skyline of the city

glitters in a silence we all know

but cannot touch or reach for with words

and I am the only one who can

remember now over there among

the young leaves brighter than the daylight

another light through the tall windows 

a sunbeam sloping like a staircase 

and from beyond it my father's voice

telling about a mote in an eye

that was like a mote in a sunbeam




From "The Shadow Of Sirius"
Copper Canyon Press 2009
The Shadow of Sirius

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Beautiful Words

Lauro de Bosis (1901-1931): from "Icaro", The First Act

...

PASIPHAE

Icarus, love can do all things.


ICARUS

Mine can do nothing. It dares to look too high.

PASIPHAE
  
Look at me, poet.

ICARUS
   
Queen, thine eyes cause me to lower mine.

PASIPHAE
   
Look at me, poet.  Icarus, read in my heart.

ICARUS
  
Lady, the human heart is a dread abyss.

PASIPHAE
   
And thou fearest to look into it?

ICARUS
   
Queen, to-day a mortal unrest, relentless and obscure, op-
presses me. Let the poet first regain his calm.

PASIPHAE

What torments thee?

ICARUS
  
An eagle that has wildly beating wings but whose claws are
caught fast in the rock.

PASIPHAE
  
Thou, the hunter of eagles - now their prey? Let me disperse thy phantoms:  I know a philtre for all thy torment.



Lauro de Bosis, "Icaro"


Silver Olympic Medal
Arts, Dramatic Works
Amsterdam 1928

Oxford University Press
London:Humphrey Milford 1933
Translation Ruth Draper
Icaro

Art Competitions at The Olympic Games

Monday, January 11, 2016

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) : from "The Masque of Pandora"

                                 III

TOWER OF PROMETHEUS ON MOUNT CAUCASUS

                                  PROMOTHEUS.

I HEAR the trumpet of Alectryon

Proclaim the dawn.   The stars begin to fade,


And all the heavens are full of prophecies


And evil auguries.   Blood-red last night


I saw great Kronos rise ; the crescent moon


Sank through the mist, as if it were the scythe

His parricidal hand had flung far down

The western steeps.   O ye immortal Gods,

What evils are ye plotting and contriving ?


             
        HERMES and PANDORA at the threshold

                                  PANDORA.


I cannot cross the threshold.   An unseen

And icy hand repels me.   These blank walls 

Oppress me with their weight !



                                   PROMETHEUS.

                                                 Powerful ye are,

But not omnipotent.   Ye cannot fight 

Against Necessity.   The Fates control you,

As they do us, and so far we are equals !


                                   PANDORA.

Motionless, passionless, companionless

He sits there muttering in his beard.   His voice 

Is like a river flowing underground!



                                  HERMES.

Prometheus,  hail !



                                  PROMETHEUS.

                                                  Who calls me  ?



                                 HERMES. 

                                                                 It is I.

Dost Thou not know me ?



                                  PROMETHEUS.

                                                   By thy winged cap

And winged heels I know thee.   Thou art Hermes,

Captain of thieves !   Hast thou again been stealing 

The heifers of Admetus in the sweet   

Meadows of asphodel ?   Or Hera's girdle ?

Or the earth-shaking trident of Poseidon ?                     



                                  HERMES.

And thou, Prometheus ; say , hast thou again

Been stealing fire from Helios' chariot-wheels

To light thy furnaces ?



                           PROMETHEUS.

                                   Why comest though hither

So early in the dawn ?



                            HERMES.

                                   The Immortal Gods 

Know naught of late or early.    Zeus himself 

The omnipotent hath sent me.



                            PROMETHEUS.

                                              For what purpose ?



                            HERMES.

To bring this maiden to thee.



                                   PROMETHEUS.

                                                   I mistrust

The Gods and all their gifts.   If they have sent her

It is for no good purpose.



                           HERMES.

                                                    What disaster

Could she bring on thy house, who is a woman ?



                                   PROMETHEUS.

The Gods are not my friends, nor am I theirs.

Whatever comes from them, though in a shape

As beautiful as this, is evil only.

Who art though ?



                                 PANDORA.

            One who, though to thee unknown,

Yet knoweth thee.



                                PROMETHEUS.

    How shouldst thou know me, woman ?





The Masque of Pandora , 1875