A short story in a hospital.
J. W. Cassandra: Aranyfényű tavaszhírnök. A verset tegnap írtam megtörtént esemény nyomán. A lepke aranyfényű volt, gyönyörű, mint a mennyei fények. És egy nap múlva holtan találtam az udvaron… Az ártatlanság halála… Részvétet érzek pillanatnyi léte miatt, mégis örülök, hogy egyáltalán láthattam. Az angol változatot ez előtt osztottam meg. Illusztráció: janrye, Pixabay. (Golden Spring Herald, by J. W. Cassandra. This little poem was written yesterday. I wrote it by a real event. The butterfly was golden lighted and beautiful like celestial lights. And after a day I found her on the ground, dead… Death of innocence… I feel for her flashing life but I’m glad to meet her at all. I shared the English version before this one. Illustration by janrye, Pixabay.)
Golden Spring Herald, by J. W. Cassandra. This little poem was written yesterday. I wrote it by a real event. The butterfly was golden lighted and beautiful like celestial lights. And after a day I found her on the ground, dead… Death of innocence… I feel for her flashing life but I’m glad to meet her at all. I will share the Hungarian version after this one. Illustration by janrye, Pixabay.
Jonah’s Prayer, by Mihály Babits, translation by J. W. Cassandra: the poem was written in 1939 as a continuation of the Jonah’s Book, a paraphrase of the story in the Bible, in 1938. Mihály Babits (26th Nov., 1883, town Szekszárd – 4th Aug., 1941., Budapest) at that time suffered cancer of larynx and this poem is his last song. Its genre is a prayer. His dramatic self-confession and supplication to God named in the poem as Lord, or simply He, he rises his voice once more against war, for defending human values. This poem is a closing to the Jonah’s Book, it confirms the message: we have to assume role of prophet, for individual fate is dwarfed by the great wholeness, but it is the individual namely the prophet who is able to manifest God’s will for the sake of the great wholeness. Lord is equal to provider Creator, the Whale symbolizes death. On the illustration you can see the poet’s photo from 1935 and his signature. Illustration is from wikipedia. The grievous actuality, that we all know, motivated me to translate and share the poem. I will share it in Hungarian, as well.
” Love comes unexpectedly And goes unexpectedly It left us wondering in thoughts Why did it knock at our livesTo break ; apart or to shine it with What we have got .”
We are the tiny specks of this universe. Isn’t it, then, obvious that we are influenced by the ever changing dynamics of this vast uncharted space?
This is a poem about suicide and how it often occurs to best of people. And those who don’t understand these people during their lifetime wonder why they chose death over their company. Charles Bukowski calls death as effect and oblivion created by people around him as effect.
Robert Frost chooses the best alternative as a mode of destruction if the world had to end this moment. He chooses the better mode from amongst ‘fire’ and ‘ice’. He is also giving justification for his choice.
Rose colored glasses cause so much pain Because I just want to hear your voice again And listen to the sharp edges of an “I still love you.” Julianne M. Peacock
This poem describes the fear of Christina Georgina Rossetti, not from death but from the fact that her lover might not remember her after she is gone. But as the poem progresses, she accept that for a greater good, it would be better if he forgets her and live happily, rather than remember and be sad.
This is an extremely sad poem, much like the life of Emily Dickinson. A poem about her appraisal of the sadness and grief that she meets, and I bet she meets many. This poem just keeps getting sad until the last couple of paragraphs, where she reveals that other’s grief gives her comfort. It is others too, who have suffered. And some of the pains are like hers.
#Nationalpoetrymonth #updivine #poetry
A covid-19 inspired poem to give humanity hope.
This song is a very famous song from the play Cymbeline. It simply means that you need not really fear death. Death is inevitable. Each one of us, be it royalty or the common class, everyone eventually will “come to dust”. All that we do and all that we become will lose its existence one day. And we need not fear it.
I have nothing to prove Anything to do right was wronged Nothing was accepted Nothing at all It doesn’t matter Cause when it’s all done The truth will be told And you’ll have to right your wrongs.
