Video of me reciting a short poem by Adunis in Arabic and then in English
Prophecy
By Adunis
Out of our thousand-year-old sleep,
Out of our stunted history,
To the country dug grave-like into our lives,
To this drugged, murdered land,
A reverenceless sun arrives
To kill the sheikh of locusts and of sand
And time that grows on its plains
And withers on its plains
Like fungus
Up from behind this bridge comes dawn
Of a death-loving, destroyer sun.
sharing a poem from the birdsite because it is heartbreakingly beautiful; a poem by Refaat Alareer, who was killed yesterday in an Israeli airstrike: "If I must die"
We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.
You know what work is—if you’re
old enough to read this you know what
work is, although you may not do it.
Forget you.
[…]
you can hardly stand
the love flooding you for your brother,
who’s not beside you or behind or
ahead because he’s home trying to
sleep off a miserable night shift
at Cadillac…
A reading of the "Saint Crispin's Day" speech from Henry V in a reconstruction of how London English was pronounced in the early 1600s, from your friendly neighborhood historical linguist and poetry nerd.
Note: there are five other characters in this scene beside the prince at the beginning. They do not all have identical phonologies. There were quite a few competing types of speech in London ca. 1600.
A recording in which I read Shakespeare's Sonnet 17 ("Who will believe my verse...") in a reconstruction of one form of early 17th century London pronunciation.
Note that "tongue"/"song", "parts"/"deserts" and "come"/'tomb" are all full rhymes.
If you like this video and want to help me make more things like it, check out my patreon at patreon.com/azforeman
A reading of Shakespeare's Sonnet 139 ("O call not me to justify the wrong") in a reconstruction of one form of early 17th century London English pronunciation.
If you like this video and want to help me make more things like it, make a pledge at my patreon:
Hard to believe right now, but still …
I made a bold attempt to translate this some years ago and I come back to it every January. One of my favorite poems.
If you never heard of Majken Johansson’s writing (no wonder if you are not Swedish), do look her up. You are in for a treat.
"I say this now to remind myself how words can squirt sideways, mute and mad; you think they are tools, or toys, or tame, and all at once they burn all your clothes off and you're standing there singed and ridiculous in the glare of the lightning."
Once I #arrive, I will start anew.
Once I am balanced, my dreams will come true.
Just wait until the time arrives.
Once I am there, I will thrive.
And so she spent day and days
for this moment to take place,
missing out on life.
They told me of a Father,
Of an unshakable log,
Under the breezes of the north wind.
Hanged, children's homes and nests,
Between branches joined with red gauze.
They told me of a Father
before I fell asleep
With the memory of a torment.
Among dreams, I saw men walking,
old virgins pregnant with rags
And Chopin's grave in the burrow under a pub.
Mother mine, I will never be happy:
Die unpretentiously, calmly.
The Father they told me about has already migrated.
I see the sunset
here.
There are only two feelings.
Love and fear.
There are only two languages.
Love and fear.
There are only two activities.
Love and fear.
There are only two motives,
two procedures, two frameworks,
two results.
Love and fear.
Love and fear.
Roy Black's 'Ganz in Weiß' on the radio,
I looked out the window on the first floor.
The colour of the wet lawn intensified
under the typical grey sky.
Love has always been a difficult matter in our family.
I don't think you knew much of it.
But I still loved you.
Ilya Shambat : Russian Poems Translated into English
Ilya Shambat grew up in the Soviet Union and he translates Russian poetry into English. A long-running history of his translations and copious essays can be found archived on the Usenet group, 'alt.astrology'. I read his poetry there for years and I really enjoyed it. Usenet archives are a treasure trove of literature.
Here are some links to a few of the poems in English.
