#sonnet xix

[words-and-coffee]

as you come out of the sea, naked, and return to the world full of salt and sun, reverberating statue and sword of the sand.

Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets: XIX

#Pablo Neruda #100 love sonnets #quote #quotes #poetry excerpt #xix #poetry #poetry fragments

[bomberqueen17]

letters

So in 1944 my grandpa got tuberculosis. It was bad enough that they sent him to a sanitarium up in the Adirondacks for a rest cure, which was what was recommended at the time. He'd been married to my grandmother for just a little while; they had a son, my uncle, and she was pregnant with my dad.

While he was there he wrote letters daily. He wrote a lot of letters, I think, to his parents and sister and friends. But the ones he sent to his wife, my grandma, she kept.

I don't know the chronology of it all, but after Grandma died, probably my dad found the packet of letters, as he was the one who went through her effects-- might have been his little sister, my aunt. Anyway the packet got circulated around, and then came back to my dad, who carefully organized all of the letters into a binder with individual plastic archival sleeves. Someone asked after them recently, and Mom found them and pulled them out. I was over there today, feeding her cat while she's on vacation, and so I leafed through them.

Grandpa's handwriting is similar, a bit, to my late father's, so I was able to read it reasonably easily. He started strong, the first letter he recounts how he fared in the rainstorm he'd apparently left home in, and then asks how Grandma fared.

How are you, my Baby? Did your schooner of sleep bear you safely thru the storm? If it didn't then you won't be reading this sorry excuse for a letter.

In that same letter he goes on to say,

Zounds! How can I create in this infernal bedlam? All the patients are up (as far as possible) and braying, the phone is ringing, Ma is delivering the Gettysburg Address + Pa is making more noise with a piece of wrapping paper than I could make with a hammer and a piece of steele [sic].

It rapidly escalates from there, and in a later letter he explains that the rest cure was so boring he had literally nothing to do, nothing to write home about, and so in an effort to keep from dwelling on how much he hated it there, he would write these flowery, possibly-repetitive love letters, because he simply had nothing else to talk about.

Your accounts of the marital woes of the [illegible, probably neighbors] are really hair-raising, but I don't think that the happiness of our marriage is due entirely to good fortune. As I have always said, we were made for each other a long, long time ago and our hearts refused to love anyone until the right one came along.

Looking at the postmarks, I realized they dated from right around the time of my father's birth, so I found the one that was sent the day after Dad was born, and it did not disappoint.

My beloved Words cannot express just how I feel this morning; I am all mixed up. You are so wonderful that sometimes I wonder what I ever did to deserve you. You are the one who is increasing our fortunes, for truly our children are the treasures that make us rich. You are so brave, so cool that I hold you in undying amazement. I am sure of one thing, My Darling; I know your sons will love you, not just because you are their mother, but for your own precious self, for the truly great woman you are. For the ordeal you have gone thru to bring these precious lives into being, rest assured of the eternal devotion of your menfolk. Last night all I could think of was you. I heard the night train coming into the station and my heart said "Run, run and catch the train before it is too late. Run to your loved ones and to hell with the results. Run, let nothing keep you from their sides." But my head said, "No, don't undo all that has been done. They also serve who stand and wait. Wait, and by so doing, prove your love to be more than the reckless love of youth, prove it to be the wise, guiding love that lives on long after passion has spent itself and thus spent, dies." And so I waited and the train left without me + my heart hated me for it.

Oh boy I cried, I sure did. (I had to look it up; "They also serve who only stand and wait" is from John Milton's Sonnet XIX.)

He always uses beloved or darling or somesuch as the salutation, but he often refers to her as Red within the text of the letters, because she had red hair. He occasionally made saucy references to their sex life, elsewhere in the letters. But mostly it's absolutely banger shit like this:

My thoughts and deeds, my smiles and tears, my happiness, my loneliness, my joy, my sorrow, my every breath, yea, even the final beat of my loving heart are poor blossoms placed on my altar of adoration, raised in humble gratitude to you.

Her name was Margaret, and I never knew her to have any nicknames, she just went by her name. Except to him, apparently. But as for him-- his government name was John, as was my father's, but my father never had to have a nickname, because there was never a day in his life Grandpa went by John. His name was Buddy, everyone called him Buddy, and he signed his letters as Buddy.

He died in January of 1978 of complications related to the damage to his lungs from the tuberculosis (not directly, but it was related). Grandma was standing in the hallway of the hospital, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up so he could meet my older sister, his third grandchild. He never did meet her.

She died in 2002 of congestive heart failure; I'd spent much of the preceding week with her and she'd spoken mostly of him.

#family lore #letters #history i guess

[poemoftheday]

Poem of the Day 18 May 2024

William Shakespeare. 1564-1616

Sonnet xix

TH' expense of Spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.   All this the world well knows; yet none knows well   To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

#poetry #poem of the day #poem #william shakespeare

[poetasterwaster]

Sonnet XIX

XI. (Too Comfortable Communication Carouse with Mad) I sensed her curtness from a while ago. ’Twas like she kept the distance tween our hearts. ‘What’s up, today?’ I asked; she answered, ‘No, There’s nothing bad.’ My doubt got off the charts. ‘Why don’t you take a camping trip next week?’ ‘I’m sorry, what to say to you, I hold, About restarting love with him,’ so weak. The same day, the good news to me was told. She also joined my send-off gathering. I want to run away but… can’t because I cannot make her sense of guilty sting Her heart; my love alive still with no gauze. A-seeing ripples on the liquor, aye… I drank it all in one gulp, taste of sigh.

#poetry #original poem #rhyme #sonnet #original poetry #verse #bitter memory #heartbroken #broken heart #past #Mad series

[nyc-uws]

Le Sonnet d'Arvers, paru en 1833 dans le recueil poétique Mes heures perdues de Félix Arvers, est l'un des sonnets les plus populaires du XIXe siècle.

#Sonnet d'Arvers

[smokefalls]

Title: Die Sonette an Orpheus (Sonnets to Orpheus) Author: Rainer Maria Rilke Translator: Willis Barnstone Publication Date of Translation: December 2004 Publisher: Shambhala Genre: poetry

My German has deteriorated over the years, but I know enough that I was able to understand that Rilke has an incredible command of the language to create an enchanting rhythm and otherworldly impressions that hark back to the Orpheus myth. (That being said, I also see how he was definitely inspired by Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and, really, the way Ancient Greek and Roman poets called to the Muses.)

Considering that my German is not up to par, I have to rely on the English translation of the bilingual edition I read to get a better grasp of what was written. Unfortunately, I think the particular translation I read by Willis Barnstone was a bit of a miss. There were some interesting choices in interpretation when it came to words and how he decided to translate the sonnet form (i.e., definitely tried to remain faithful to the original). I’m likely going to have to revisit this collection and read a different translation, but I greatly appreciated that the edition I read provided the original and translation.

Favorite sonnets: Part I: III, VIII, XIV, XVI, XIX, XXV; Part II: I, X, XIII, XVI, XXI, XXVII, XXVIII, XXIX

Read for the Sealey Challenge.

Content Warning: death

#Rainer Maria Rilke #Sonnets to Orpheus #Die Sonette an Orpheus #book review #poetry #2022 reads #Sealey Challenge #booklr

[segretecose]

intensely thinking about light/lights being a recurring metonymic substitute for "eyes" in Italian poetry (especially when referring to a beloved person) like Petrarca in sonnet CXXIII saying that he saw tears fall from Laura's "lights" which are so beautiful the sun itself has envied them thousands of times:

or Dante saying in Paradiso c. III that he looked into the "light" of his "sweet guide" (Beatrice) – her eyes which are "fiery" and "holy" because she is smiling:

or how in Ariosto and Tasso "luci" (lights) is repeatedly used as a synonym for eyes sometimes in a similar affectionate vein but also very often to accompany images of death, like in Orlando Furioso XXI:24, where a "filthy" sword is used to "eternally extinguish the lights" = to shut someone's eyes:

and in Gerusalemme Liberata XIX:109, where with open lips and closed "lights" a wounded Tancredi sighs into the arms of Erminia:

and how that idea of a dying/dimming light shows up again later in Leopardi, for example in All'Italia, where the poet is frustrated because "fate" won't let him "shut his dying lights" in the war:

what i'm trying to say i guess is that it's all just very interesting how eyes are related to the ideas of love and light and life time and time again in poetry. very interesting

#dante tag

[but-a-dust]

It's nonsensical, but hear me out:

a film entitled probably Horatio following the story of Horatio slowly falling into insanity after Hamlet's death. the story is hard to be placed in time, but probably happens around XIX century, with Hamlet having been some kind of aristocrat and Fortinbras - an heir to his fortune, thanks to some close yet unexplained ties to Claudius. no specific explanation as to why does it happen, it just happens.

the story opens with Horatio's voice from off reciting the beginning of Sheakespeare's Sonnet 18 (shall I compare thee to a summer day?) as we see Elsinore, a beautiful manor surrounded by clearings and trees, in the daylight. the main plot of the story is how Horatio tries to write his memories of Hamlet and their story together into a book. there is dozens of strange and seemingly unimportant scenes, which can turn extremely symbolical. for instance, there is a repeating motive of Horatio wearing a violet flower crown, Fortinbras keeps on building houses of cards etc.

least to say, Horatio is traumatized. he can't forget about what happened to his lover. it's mentioned and shown multiple times. there's a scene in which Fortinbras invites Horatio to have a fencing match and Horatio falls into panic as he takes the dagger. he drops it on the ground and cries out something like "i cannot fight with that", remembering Hamlet's ill-fated fight with Laetres. many times, Horatio repeats things Hamlet said to him, both these which we know from the play and these unknown. there is, for instance, much emphasis put on the story about how they confessed their love for each other, and how Horatio told Hamlet "i wish we could become one and never separate", or something similar.

almost as often as that, we see his flashback of many different moments he spent with Hamlet. these are both sweet, beautiful whiles and dark, foreboding moments. there's a long sequence with flashback about a situation back in Wittenberg: Hamlet plays some melody on violin and Horatio embraces him gently, and they both look at the sky. this melody later on appears in many important scenes, either as background music or a song sung by a character.

also, the story is being constantly interrupted by Horatio's dreams and hallucinations, in which he is placed in situations Hamlet was in: murder of Polonius, snapping at Ophelia, pretending to be insane. what's strange, in these sequences Fortinbras almost always takes place of Claudius. we see him as Claudius praying and Horatio - as Hamlet - leaning over him with a dagger, we see him as he pours the poison into the cup, we see him as he writes letter to king of England. Horatio, after almost all of these situations, just sits in place for some time, talking to the empty room, implying he sees a ghost (and, of course, adresses him as sweet lord), and then starting to hum the melody Hamlet played on violin.

at the end of the story, Horatio brings the finished book to Fortinbras and wants him to read it. Fortinbras reads a few pages, starts laughing and tells Horatio something like "i'm sorry, Horatio, but this book shouldn't ever see the daylight, for it is just wrong. no matter if Hamlet was insane or not, now he's dead and can't answer this question, so i'll speak in his favor: he was mad as a hatter and as such murdered his entire family, including Claudius, who was so desperate to help him. now, i'll do you a favour and burn this book myself" - as he rips out a few pages and throws them at Horatio's feet before turning around and leaving the room. Horatio picks up the pages, completly devastated with how his entire mission was failed. the ripped pages describe how Hamlet died in Horatio's arms. the moment when Hamlet told him to be there when he'll be gone. to be, because he cannot be anymore.

Horatio reads them and gets up at his feet. he takes a dagger into his hand, looks in the mirror and cuts off his ponytail, which resembles breaking who he used to be. we VERY briefly see the reflection of Hamlet and Horatio's face is not shown as he runs after Fortinbras. the scene glithes with the sequence of Hamlet approaching Claudius after learing about the poison. dramatic, yet beautiful version of the violin melody plays in the background whilst Horatio finally run to Fortinbras and tackles him from the behind.

Fortinbras realizes what is happening just in the last second, turns his head and calls out, shocked "lord H-?!" before his scream is cut shortly. we have a glimpse at Horatio's face and then we realize it's not Horatio anymore. his insanity has taken over. we can't even say if it's Horatio or Hamlet anymore: they're truly one, never separated. music completly silences Fortinbras screaming, camera moves away and we just watch a book which has fallen out of Fortinbras' hand and now is laying on the floor.

music stops eventually. there's a long silence. then, Horatio/Hamlet walks over, picks up the book from the ground, kisses its cover and hugs it to his breast. then, he puts the dagger into Fortinbras' hand, supposedly to make his death look like a suicide, and then walks out.

the story finishes with Horatio/Hamlet laying on a clearing full of violets, still holding that book in hand, and silently reciting the rest of the sonnet, as music silently starts to once again.

#hamratio #hamlet x horatio #hamlet #shakespeare #fortinbras #film #hamlet ideas #book #au #but hear me out #tragic danish boyfriends

[thebirdandhersong]

Thinking about how Shakespeare immortalises his lover in his sonnets..... (XVII: "But were some child of yours alive that time,/You should live twice,—in it, and in my rhyme", XVIII: "So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,/So long lives this, and this gives life to thee", XIX: "Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,/My love shall in my verse ever live young")........ thinking about how bad timing or wrong timing or running out of time plays a huge part in many of his stories (especially with his couples: Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet and Ophelia, etc.)......... thinking about how precious a gift time is, and how often I take it for granted...........

#just..... thinking about it.......... #reading adventures

[fuckindiva]

Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus: First Part (XIX) (tr. J.B. Leishman)

#rainer maria rilke #quote #lit #poetry #typography #q

[beautymaple]

Monster Prom’s Stupidest Pop Quiz walkthrough (Part 1) ^_^

You wish you were raised by...

A pack of wild wolves... (Wealthy)

A mysterious old man... (Fun)

A really progressive marriage... (Bold)

It's your chance to fix global warming. Go ahead!

Global warming isn't real... (Creative)

Nah, the world is doomed.... (Wealthy)

It's time to be a real hero... (Fun)

You're elected president for a day. What's the first law you pass?

Trivia fact: presidents don't pass laws... (Smart)

One dollar bills will now include a picture of me... (Charming)

You can deduct taxes by writing sonnets instead... (Creative)

You get the chance to produce a movie. It's based on...

Something about superheros... (Wealthy)

The most influential Russian novelists of the XIX century... (Fun)

Two cool guys walking away from rad explosions... (Bold)

If you had to have sex with an animal... which animal would it be?

A dolphin... (Fun)

No one can make me fuck an animal... (Bold)

A purebred horse... (Wealthy)

You build a 100ft statue commemorating an event so that in 1000 years archaeologists can learn something about the people of our time. What does the statue represent?

Your least favourite political figure... (Bold)

That glorious instant when your friend stopped you from texting embarassing stuff to your ex while hella drunk. (Fun)

That mind-blowing twist in your favourite TV show... (Creative)

Democtacy is just broken. What would be the best way of choosing the leaders of modern society?

We create a reality show called "America's Next Top President"... (Fun)

You put all the candidates in an empty room... (Bold)

Whoever can play the most heartbreaking violin solo wins. (Creative)

What is your spirit emoji?

Caucasian guy... (Creative)

Snowman... (Bold)

Octopus... (Fun)

Which is the coolest mythological creature?

A sphinx... (Fun)

The invisible hand of the free market. (Wealthy)

This weird creature I drew when I was six... (Creative)

A radioactive possum just bit you... what superpower did you get?

The superpower of always choosing the right combination... (Charming)

The incredible power of writing fanfiction... (Creative)

Uh, probably rabies?... (Smart)

If you could put a curse on your worst enemy, what would it do?

I'd curse them to fall in love... (Bold)

The curse of always meeting obnoxious people... (Charming)

You can't rely on the effectiveness... (Smart)

Which inanimate object do yyou think would make the best girlfriend or boyfriend, provided you went criminally insane?

A dildo... (Fun)

An ATM... (Wealthy)

A human-size pillow... (Creative)

School is outdated and lame.We need a new school subject ASAP!

How to correctly punch a crocodile... (Bold)

Turning people into your puppets... (Charming)

Critical thought... (Smart)

Which god do you pray to each night before sleeping?

Praying is kind of lame... (Charming)

Oh, I pray to all kinds of gods... (Wealthy)

Praying is for fools... (Smart)

If you had to have sex with an animal... Which animal would it be?

A great white shark. (Charming)

A swan. (Creative)

A human being. (Smart)

What would be the coolest prize you could find in your box of cereal?

The phone number... (Charming)

A sample of more nutritious breakfast... (Smart)

A tiny piece of sharp metal... (Bold)

The coolest reality show would be...

People in positions of power must face all sort of questions... (Smart)

Eight rich people fight in weekly challenges... (Wealthy)

Twelve experts on the various arts of seduction live in a house... (Charming)

#monster prom #walkthrough

[myfavoritepoesy]

my love shall in my verse ever live young

-shakespeare, sonnet XIX

[revmeg]

You sobbed your way into what you wanted. Someone to call. Someone who would understand why your phone was always in your hand.... And a debt was clicking up every night he stroke your hair for comfort. Every night he let you pass out in his bed. A meter was running: it would grind to a halt.

from “Crown Sonnet” in To Fall Fable by Alice Wickenden, p. xix

#poetry #lit #small press #chapbooks #To Fall Fable #Alice Wickenden

[britneyshakespeare]

the virgin sonnets i-xvii, xix-cliv versus the chad sonnet xviii

#i am begging every english major professor and ted talker presenter to please pick a new favorite sonnet #it's not bad (obviously) but it's talked to DEATH #kinda ironic i guess w the 'this gives life to thee' #we've all heard this one referenced we all read this in eighth grade as our first real look at shakespeare that one time in may #and then saved r&j and so on for high school #it's great it is but PLEASE CAN WE ANALYZE ANOTHER SONNET!!! EVEN ONE!!!!!!! #shakespeare #text post #we could even be ballsy and do a sonnet from someone like john donne or milton but idk if the public is ready for that #when i did a presentation for my public speaking class on how to write a sonnet i used john donne's holy sonnet v for an example #(and for donne fans THAT is a real basic bitch move but most ppl are not in fact donne fans and it's new to them) #(plus i already had it memorized and... i love it) #ohohoh it's even in petrarchan form!!! #a few ppl in my class (who gave a shit) asked me about the poet/form afterward bc they'd never heard of either #expose ppl to more historically significant literature than the 2 lines of shakespeare we hear referenced on playhouse disney 2k20 #i hattteeee how surface level poetical discourse is :| i wanna discuss ideas and poets but nobody cares #nobody knows what i'm talking about & assumes i'm some pretentious self-appointed intellectual rather than #a curious person who loves language and history.