Ρε δεν το πιστεύω, ΜΟΛΙΣ είχα ετοιμάσει ένα τούμπανο ποστ κι έκανα preview ΕΚΛΕΙΣΕ ο υπολογιστής για να κάνει restart για σημαντικές ενημερώσεις λέει ΑΑΑΑ!! :blow::blow::x
Τελοσπάντων, ΠΑΜΕ ΞΑΝΑ!
Μια και πιάσαμε τους ξενόγλωσσους και δη τον Baudelaire,
[SPOILER] SONNET OF AUTUMN
by: Charles Baudelaire
ΤHEY say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes:
"Why dost thou love me so, strange lover mine?"
Be sweet, be still! My heart and soul despise
All save that antique brute-like faith of thine;
And will not bare the secret of their shame
To thee whose hand soothes me to slumbers long,
Nor their black legend write for thee in flame!
Passion I hate, a spirit does me wrong.
Let us love gently. [U]Love, from his retreat,[/U]
[U]Ambushed and shadowy, bends his fatal bow,[/U]
[U]And I too well his ancient arrows know:[/U]
Crime, horror, folly. O pale marguerite,
[U]Thou art as I, a bright sun fallen low,[/U]
O my so white, my so cold Marguerite.
THE TEMPTATION
by: Charles Baudelaire
ΤHE Demon, in my chamber high,
This morning came to visit me,
And, thinking he would find some fault,
He whispered: "I would know of thee
Among the many lovely things
That make the magic of her face,
Among the beauties, black and rose,
That make her body's charm and grace,
Which is most fair?" Thou didst reply
To the Abhorred, O soul of mine:
"No single beauty is the best
When she is all one flower divine.
When all things charm me I ignore
Which one alone brings most delight;
[U]She shines before me like the dawn,[/U]
[U]And she consoles me like the night.[/U]
The harmony is far too great,
That governs all her body fair,
For impotence to analyse
And say which note is sweetest there.
O mystic metamorphosis!
[U]My senses into one sense flow--[/U]
[U]Her voice makes perfume when she speaks,[/U]
[U]Her breath is music faint and low!"[/U]
Βάζω αυτές τις μεταφράσεις πρώτον γιατί δε μιλάω γρι γαλλικά και δεύτερον, γιατί τις βρίσκω πολύ καλές, μάλιστα μου θυμίζουν Poe!
Τα underlined είναι κομματάκια που μ’ αρέσουν ιδιαίτερα.[/SPOILER]
Από τους αγαπημένους μου είναι ο Ιρλανδός William Butler Yeats:
[SPOILER]AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH
I KNOW that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My county is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.[/SPOILER]
[SPOILER]WHEN YOU ARE OLD
WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.[/SPOILER]
(Αυτά τα δύο τα λατρεύω αυτούσια ^.^)
Επίσης, δεν θα μπορούσα να παραλείψω το πανέμορφο, πολυαγαπημένο “Eloisa to Abelard” του Alexander Pope. Αν μπορούσα, θα το έβαζα ολόκληρο εδώ με υπογραμμισμένους τους αγαπημένους μου στίχους, αλλά επειδή είναι πάρα πολύ μεγάλο σας παραπέμπω εδώ [U]http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/show/4632-Alexander-Pope-Eloisa-to-Abelard[/U]
Ώρες είχα φάει ασχολούμενη με αυτό το ποίημα… Ακολουθούν δύο αποσπάσματα που είχα ξεχωρίσει και τα θυμήθηκα μόλις τα ξαναείδα.
[SPOILER]
[I]How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
[U]Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind![/U]
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;[/I]
[…]
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp’ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th’ unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav’nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
Το πρώτο κομμάτι είναι γνωστό από την ομώνυμη ταινία (ναι, από 'κει έμαθα για το ποίημα).
Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
Far other raptures, of unholy joy:
[I]When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,
Fancy restores what vengeance snatch’d away,
Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.[/I]
Oh curs’d, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,
And stir within me every source of love.
[I]I hear thee, view thee, gaze o’er all thy charms,
And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
I wake?no more I hear, no more I view,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I say;
I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.[/I]
To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!
Alas, no more?..
[/SPOILER]
Και τέλος, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” - T. S. Eliot. Τα λόγια περιττεύουν!
Επειδή είναι και αυτό μεγάλο και δεν θέλω να το βάλω εδώ, όποιος θέλει [U]http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html[/U]
Βάζω δύο αποσπάσματα για να πάρετε μια γεύση:
[SPOILER]
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, ?Do I dare?? and, ?Do I dare??
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair?
[They will say: ?How his hair is growing thin!?]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin?
[They will say: ?But how his arms and legs are thin!?]
[I]Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
[B]For I have known them all already, known them all:?
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume? [/B]
And I have known the eyes already, known them all?
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume? [/I]
And I have known the arms already, known them all?
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
[I]I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
[B]Till human voices wake us, and we drown.[/B][/I]
[/SPOILER]
Αυτααά. 
![[U]Νάνος Βαλαωρίτης - Η Μεγάλη Νύχτα[/U]](http://eclass.uoa.gr/modules/document/file.php/PHIL330/N%CE%AC%CE%BD.%20%CE%92%CE%B1%CE%BB%CE%B1%CF%89%CF%81%CE%AF%CF%84%CE%B7%CF%82.jpg){kind=link}