writing in another language (that is: not in your mothertongue)?

I'm a fan of Fernando Pessoa.

his way of writing is not my favourite
but what he writes is so great

and I love the fact
he's the only writer

I do not condemn
because of lack of form

...you?

I believe the question should be "who is your favorite poet"...

Pable Naruda

I am not into Poetry at all.

purplerein said:

You're right. It's impossible to write in another language when emotional... reading is much easier.


Here's one back: it's Pablo.

nevermind
[Edited 11/15/06 9:55am]

nevermind #2
[Edited 11/15/06 9:55am]

nevermind #3
[Edited 11/15/06 9:56am]

well ..it's another language to me

Mach said:

that shows it touches you.

MarieLouise said:

I just didnt read the info in your thread right


my apologies

Mach said:

apologies accepted and not found necessary

Mods, please delete this thread now, if you have the time for protecting my self-image.

I want to restart it using proper English

NAnomaly said:

This beautiful poem is way too clear right now. I'm going to continue correcting writing test from my students.

Rumi has some heartbreakingly beautiful poetry that really touches me...
And my best friend hipped me to a poet named Hafiz who rules me, hard.

Whats goin' on with Mach?????

Not who I think is the greatest, but I'm most familiar with Charles Bukowski's stuff.

luv4all7 said:

i made boo boos

MarieLouise said:

Tired of Speaking Sweetly

Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved his choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of Truth
That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,
Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us,
Lock us inside of a tiny room with himself
And practice his dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants
to do us a great favour:
Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear
He is in such a "playful drunken mood"
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.

-Hafiz

The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you,
not knowing
how blind that I was

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere
They're in each other all along.

-Rumi

Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a good reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The stars and the moon are envious of each other.
Because of this alienation the physical universe
is getting tighter and tighter.
The moon says, "How long will I remain
suspended without a sun?"
Without Love's jewel inside of me,
let the bazaar of my existence by destroyed stone by stone.
O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,
You who are faceless but have a thousand faces,
O Love, You who shape the faces
of Turks, Europeans, and Zanzibaris,
give me a glass from Your bottle,
or a handful of bheng from Your Branch.
Remove the cork once more.
The we'll see a thousand chiefs prostrate themselves,
and a circle of ecstatic troubadours will play.
Then the addict will be freed of craving.
and will be resurrected,
and stand in awe till Judgement Day.

-Rumi

Certainly not Bukowski's best, but you get the idea



Three Oranges

first time my father overheard me listening to
this bit of music he asked me,
"what is it?"
"it's called Love For Three Oranges,"
I informed him.
"boy," he said, "that's getting it
cheap."
he meant sex.
listening to it
I always imagined three oranges
sitting there,
you know how orange they can
get,
so mightily orange.
maybe Prokofiev had meant
what my father
thought.
if so, I preferred it the
other way
the most horrible thing
I could think of
was part of me being
what ejaculated out of the
end of his
stupid penis.
I will never forgive him
for that,
his trick that I am stuck
with,
I find no nobility in
parenthood.
I say kill the Father
before he makes more
such as
I.

FunkMistress said:

From which country is this poet? I really like the idea, but to me it sounds a bit too 'obvious', if you know what I mean. I've read this a thousand times, it seems. But then again, it might be the translation that simplifies.

And again, again, Pessoa's poetry is very simple as well, and I still like it.
I'll try to find one of his poems in an English translation. The problem is I feel like I can't judge English translations. I manage to understand some of it in Portuguese, and I do feel when a Dutch translation is good in my opinion or not, but in English...

NDRU said:

That's funny. To me at least.

MarieLouise said:

he's hilarious, but at his best he's much more.

KRS One


We are the ones prophesized to return
My main concern is for all of you to learn
How to live, yes through the lyrics I give and send my friend
This age is coming to an end
Not the world, but the age is ending
Ending, listen to the astrological message I'm sending

Truth is truth, whether or not you like me
We are living now in the age of Pisces
When Pisces is over, at the year two thousand
When the Sun of God, changes his house and
enters the Age of Aquarius
The Sun of God as man is hilarious
When you think of Jesus, think of the Sun
The flaming Sun, that's where they stole this concept from
Stop believing and read your bible logically
The new testament is really old astrology
Jesus is the son of God no lie
But they might be talking about the Sun up in the sky
The Sun, that hangs on the cross of the zodiac
The zodiac with twelve signs to be exact
Each sign is a house, and you should keep in mind
Each house equals, a period of time
The time, two thousand years and that's a fact
It's called an age or a house in the zodiac
The twelve disciples, are twelve months of reason
The four gospels signify the four seasons
When Jesus fed the multitude with two fishes
It signified the Age of Pisces, not fish on dishes
If you read the bible astrologically it's clearer
The next age will be the age of the water-bearer
It's called the Age of Aquarius
When logic and truth will take care of us
So in this age, of spiritual dignity
You'll see a rise in femininity
and creativity, meshed with masculinity
You got to get with me, this is your true history
Do you wanna go higher?

Roger McGough is my favourite poet, he's so clever with words yet can flip effortlessly from being hilarious one minute to being increadibly moving the next. He's been a guiding force throughout my life, from the first time he was made part of my early education through to this present day.

I was lucky enough to attend a reading of his a number of years ago and got him to sign my favourite collection of his: 'Blazing Fruit', it's definately a treasured book, even moreso now. To hear him recite his poems is truly amazing, I can't begin to express what it is like to hear him give them life.

A Brown Paper Carrierbag
IN THE TIME...
a spider's web woven across
the plateglass window shivers snaps
and sends a shimmering haze of lethal stars
across the crowded restaurant

IN THE TIME IT TAKES...
jigsaw pieces of shrapnel
glide gently towards children
tucking
in
to
the warm flesh
a terrible hunger sated

IN THE TIME IT TAKES TO PUT DOWN...
on the pavement
people come apart s-l-o-w-l-y
at first
only the dead not screaming

IN THE TIME IT TAKES TO PUT DOWN A BROWN PAPER CARRIERBAG.


Kisses and Blows
This is the water
cold and black
that drowned the child
that climbed on its back

This is the tree
badtempered and tall
that tripped the child
and made it fall

This is the cave
with rotting breath
that hid the child
and starved it to death

This is the mother
who one day chose
to smother the child
with kisses, and blows and blows and blows.


26
Your finger
sadly
has a familiar ring
about it

Mach, I want the Poe-poems back !!!

To me they're written in another language, so that shows this thread is very relative, you shouldn't care!

I blame myself for making my thread-titles so confusing. From now on I'll put the whole question in the title... I promise.

MarieLouise said:

I so didn't see the "other language" part...

Of course, the poems I posted were originally written in Persian!