Spinney
Bimbleur extraordinaire
- Location
- Back up north
Poetry in Motion
- Thread starter Randomnerd
- Start date
Page may contain affiliate links. Please see terms for details.
cisamcgu
Legendary Member
- Location
- Merseyside-ish
OP
OP
Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Fnaar
Smutmaster General
- Location
- Thumberland
Spinney
Bimbleur extraordinaire
- Location
- Back up north
soz
(actually the first thing that came to mind was a bit in Chicken Run - so it could have been worse!)
The Crofted Crest
Veteran
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.
O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimful of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low,
As long ago, my love, how long ago!
So get your bike out the shed
We're off cycling around Loop Head!
A little bit of Christina Rossetti and a littler bit of me.
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.
O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimful of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low,
As long ago, my love, how long ago!
So get your bike out the shed
We're off cycling around Loop Head!
A little bit of Christina Rossetti and a littler bit of me.
OP
OP
Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Lovely @The Crofted Crest, how you've managed to capture the very voice of Rossetti in your last stanza. You have a gift.
- Location
- Manchester
[QUOTE 5179023, member: 259"]Passant dans la rue un dimanche à six heures, soudain,
Au bout d'un corridor fermé de vitres en losange,
On voit un torrent de soleil qui roule entre des branches
Et se pulvérise à travers les feuilles d'un jardin,
Avec des éclats palpitants au milieu du pavage
Et des gouttes d'or — en suspens aux rayons d'un vélo.
C'est un grand vélo noir, de proportions parfaites,
Qui touche à peine au mur. Il a la grâce d'une bête
En éveil dans sa fixité calme : c'est un oiseau.
La rue est vide. Le jardin continue en silence
De déverser à flots ce feu vert et doré qui danse
Pieds nus, à petits pas légers sur le froid du carreau.
Parfois un chien aboie ainsi qu'aux abords d'un village.
On pense à des murs écroulés, à des bois, des étangs.
La bicyclette vibre alors, on dirait qu'elle entend.
Et voudrait-on s'en emparer, puisque rien ne l'entrave,
On devine qu'avant d'avoir effleuré le guidon
Éblouissant, on la verrait s'enlever d'un seul bond
À travers le vitrage à demi noyé qui chancelle,
Et lancer dans le feu du soir les grappes d'étincelles
Qui font à présent de ses roues deux astres en fusion.
Jacques REDA[/QUOTE]
I used Google translate and what a lovely poem it is!
We see a torrent of sun rolling between branches
And is sprayed through the leaves of a garden,
With splinters thrilling in the middle of the pavement
And drops of gold - standing in the shelves of a bicycle.
It's a big black bike, of perfect proportions,
barely touching the wall. He has the grace of a beast
Awakened in his calm fixity: it is a bird.
The street is empty. The garden continues silently
Flowing the green and golden light that dances
barefoot, with small light steps on the cold of the tile.
Sometimes a dog barks and on the outskirts of a village.
We think of collapsed walls, woods, ponds.
The bicycle vibrates then, it looks like she hears.
And we would like to seize it, since nothing hinders it,
We guess that before having touched the
Dazzling Handlebar , we would see it take off in a single leap
Through the half-drowned glazing that staggers,
And throw in the evening fire the bunches of sparks
Which now make two melting stars from its wheels.
Jacques Réda, Return to calm
Au bout d'un corridor fermé de vitres en losange,
On voit un torrent de soleil qui roule entre des branches
Et se pulvérise à travers les feuilles d'un jardin,
Avec des éclats palpitants au milieu du pavage
Et des gouttes d'or — en suspens aux rayons d'un vélo.
C'est un grand vélo noir, de proportions parfaites,
Qui touche à peine au mur. Il a la grâce d'une bête
En éveil dans sa fixité calme : c'est un oiseau.
La rue est vide. Le jardin continue en silence
De déverser à flots ce feu vert et doré qui danse
Pieds nus, à petits pas légers sur le froid du carreau.
Parfois un chien aboie ainsi qu'aux abords d'un village.
On pense à des murs écroulés, à des bois, des étangs.
La bicyclette vibre alors, on dirait qu'elle entend.
Et voudrait-on s'en emparer, puisque rien ne l'entrave,
On devine qu'avant d'avoir effleuré le guidon
Éblouissant, on la verrait s'enlever d'un seul bond
À travers le vitrage à demi noyé qui chancelle,
Et lancer dans le feu du soir les grappes d'étincelles
Qui font à présent de ses roues deux astres en fusion.
Jacques REDA[/QUOTE]
I used Google translate and what a lovely poem it is!
We see a torrent of sun rolling between branches
And is sprayed through the leaves of a garden,
With splinters thrilling in the middle of the pavement
And drops of gold - standing in the shelves of a bicycle.
It's a big black bike, of perfect proportions,
barely touching the wall. He has the grace of a beast
Awakened in his calm fixity: it is a bird.
The street is empty. The garden continues silently
Flowing the green and golden light that dances
barefoot, with small light steps on the cold of the tile.
Sometimes a dog barks and on the outskirts of a village.
We think of collapsed walls, woods, ponds.
The bicycle vibrates then, it looks like she hears.
And we would like to seize it, since nothing hinders it,
We guess that before having touched the
Dazzling Handlebar , we would see it take off in a single leap
Through the half-drowned glazing that staggers,
And throw in the evening fire the bunches of sparks
Which now make two melting stars from its wheels.
Jacques Réda, Return to calm
gavroche
Getting old but not past it
- Location
- North Wales
OP
OP
Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
[QUOTE 5179598, member: 259"]of Jacques Réda, maybe @gavroche knows of him.[/QUOTE]
I read a bit of his work as a student, when I was having a sideways look at flanerie. This was at around the same time as study allowed me the freedom to watch Jacques Tati films over and over to support some philosophical garbage I was trying to rehash. The poem you quoted seems, deliciously, to be all about the last line - and he really knocks you down with it.
While we are on, Tati is worth a look. The bicycle looms large in his oeuvre - and stray dogs, which makes all is work look so cool. Anyone love "L'ecole des facteurs"?
I read a bit of his work as a student, when I was having a sideways look at flanerie. This was at around the same time as study allowed me the freedom to watch Jacques Tati films over and over to support some philosophical garbage I was trying to rehash. The poem you quoted seems, deliciously, to be all about the last line - and he really knocks you down with it.
While we are on, Tati is worth a look. The bicycle looms large in his oeuvre - and stray dogs, which makes all is work look so cool. Anyone love "L'ecole des facteurs"?
OP
OP
Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
gavroche
Getting old but not past it
- Location
- North Wales
This and Monsieur Hulot on holiday, most famous great films.
The Crofted Crest
Veteran
Bicycle Mystery Poem
Elmer Butts
This bike of mine was doing just fine
when I rode it to the old shoe store,
but then I came out and without a doubt,
it was not the same anymore.
It shakes and grinds and bounces and whines,
which this was plain to see,
when it shook me off into a briar patch
and bounced me up a tree.
It rattled my glasses off my face
and almost hit a truck,
I'm glad I'm not in a bicycle race,
I'd sure be out of luck.
It's hard to peddle and it just won't steer,
I can barely stay on the seat.
I've rode it for an hour now,
but it's only moved a few feet.
My shoes were new just a while ago,
but now they're battered and tore.
I wonder what happened to cause all of this
when I parked it at the old shoe store.
I think I see the problem now,
after wearing out my heels.
Well I'll be a hog-tied ding-dong daddy,
somebody stole the wheels.
Elmer Butts
This bike of mine was doing just fine
when I rode it to the old shoe store,
but then I came out and without a doubt,
it was not the same anymore.
It shakes and grinds and bounces and whines,
which this was plain to see,
when it shook me off into a briar patch
and bounced me up a tree.
It rattled my glasses off my face
and almost hit a truck,
I'm glad I'm not in a bicycle race,
I'd sure be out of luck.
It's hard to peddle and it just won't steer,
I can barely stay on the seat.
I've rode it for an hour now,
but it's only moved a few feet.
My shoes were new just a while ago,
but now they're battered and tore.
I wonder what happened to cause all of this
when I parked it at the old shoe store.
I think I see the problem now,
after wearing out my heels.
Well I'll be a hog-tied ding-dong daddy,
somebody stole the wheels.
further
Guru
- Location
- Glastonbury Somerset
This wheels on fire.
