The chill is here.
The sky never
bluer.
The colors turn,
with leaves ever
fewer.
Until a last
hanger-on yields
to a weak breeze.
Autumn [Lyric Poem]
2
Tag Archives: Lyric
BOOK: “The Wanderer’s Song” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [trans. by John Kent]
The Wanderer’s Song: Essential Poems by Johann Wolfgang von GoetheMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publisher Site — Pushkin Press Classics
This is a new translation of select poems of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. It’s a clever and varied set of poems by one of German literature’s all-time greats, a polymath of the 18th and early 19th centuries.
It can be a challenge for a general poetry reader to relate to this work. Over two hundred years since most of these poems were composed, the collection reflects a worldview quite different from that which one finds today. That said, the translations are readable and pleasant and don’t feel strained or clunky, and the collection has instances of sublimity. Having no background in German Literature, I can’t say how true the translations are to source material, but they stood solidly as poems in their own right. The book does offer a substantial introduction by the translator for individuals who are particularly interested in the German literature, translation decisions, or the life of Goethe.
I would recommend this for poetry readers, even though casual readers may find it a bit archaic. If you like the Romantic poets, and haven’t given Goethe a try, it’s well worth the time investment.
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Different Wavelengths [Lyric Poem]
The parrot stands, as if jilted.
The chipmunk sniffs, as if intrigued.
Parrot behaves ever so stilted.
Chipmunk is just hungry and fatigued.
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“Thou Strainest Through the Mountain Fern” (A Fragment) by William Wordsworth [w/ Audio]
Thou strainest through the mountain fern,
A most exiguously thin
Burn.
For all thy foam, for all thy din,
Thee shall the pallid lake inurn,
With well-a-day for Mr. Swin-
Burne!
Take then this quarto in thy fin
And, O thou stoker huge and stern,
The whole affair, outside and in,
Burn!
But save the true poetic kin,
The works of Mr. Robert Burn'
And William Wordsworth upon Tin-
Tern!
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“Song” by James Joyce [w/ Audio]
My love is in a light attire
Among the apple trees,
Where the gay winds do most desire
To run in companies.
There, where the gay winds stay to woo
The young leaves as they pass,
My love goes slowly, bending to
Her shadow on the grass.
And where the sky’s a pale blue cup
Over the laughing land,
My love goes lightly, holding up
Her dress with dainty hand.
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“To a Taoist Hermit on Mt. Quanjiao” [寄全椒山中道士] by Wei Yingwu [韦应物]
Today, my office is chilly.
At once, I miss my mountain chum,
Who bound firewood in the valley,
Bringing it back to boil white stones.
I wish I could ladle some wine
To comfort on this stormy night.
But fallen leaves fill mountain hollows,
How could I find a track to follow?
This is poem #29 from the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首], entitled 寄全椒山中道士. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
今朝郡斋冷， 忽念山中客；
涧底束荆薪， 归来煮白石。
欲持一瓢酒， 远慰风雨夕。
落叶满空山， 何处寻行迹？
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“The Fish” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]
Although you hide in the ebb and flow
Of the pale tide when the moon has set,
The people of coming days will know
About the casting out of my net,
And how you have leaped times out of mind
Over the little silver cords,
And think that you were hard and unkind,
And blame you with many bitter words.
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“So set its Sun in Thee” (808) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
So set its Sun in Thee
What Day be dark to me —
What Distance — far —
So I the Ships may see
That touch — how seldomly —
Thy Shore?
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“Wanderers” by Walter de la Mare [w/ Audio]
Wide are the meadows of night,
And daisies are shinng there,
Tossing their lovely dews,
Lustrous and fair;
And through these sweet fields go,
Wanderers amid the stars --
Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune,
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars.
'Tired in their silver, they move,
And circling, whisper and say,
Fair are the blossoming meads of delight
Through which we stray.
Note: the word “shinng” seems to be spelled that way in all sources. I don’t know whether it was a typo, dialectic, or a heterodox spelling.
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Wen Fu 12 [文赋十二] “Idiosyncrasy” by Lu Ji [陆机] [w/ Audio]
Thoughts conveyed by way of short verse
May degrade in eccentricity.
With bowed head, lonely and friendless.
Face up, vast sky where all is free.
Like one string stretched to perfect pitch,
But lacking all resonancy.
NOTES: Earlier I posted a translation by Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping, entitled A One-String Harp that was contained in The Art of Writing (Boston: Shambhala; p. 15) This, however, is my own translation. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
或讬言于短韵，对穷迹而孤兴。
俯寂寞而无友，仰寥廓而莫承。
譬偏弦之独张，含清唱而靡应。
Tiger Riding for Beginners 