Long Der Poems
Long Der Poems. Below are the most popular long Der by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Der poems by poem length and keyword.
Die Lorelei by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)- Translated by T. Wignesan
For Regina von Degenfeld at Waibstadt
-in respect and unending sufferance-
(Heine, a German Jewish lyrical and satiric poet, journalist and critic,
settled in Paris from 1831 where he married Eugénie Mirat, an unsophisticated shop-assistant which earned him ostracism and dispossession from his family and fellows, but he made her his only heir on the condition that she re-married so that at least one person would regret his passing. In 1858, he was hobbled for life by spinal paralysis.)
Ich weiss nicht , was soll es bedeuten,
Nonplussed am I, what could it signify
Dass ich so traurig bin;
Plunged as I am in such a dejected mood
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
A fairy tale from times gone by,
Dass kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
In thraldom wrapped forever to brood
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Soft the cool wind buffets as the day beds down
Und ruhig fliesst der Rhein;
And ripple free courses the Rhein
Der Gïpfel des Berges funkelt
Mountain summit lights scintillate crown
Im Abendsonnenschein.
Divine in sunset shine
Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Exquisite maiden perched is she
Dort oben wunderbar,
On high there resplendent
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
Her golden accoutrements sparkle free
Sie kämmt ihr goldnes Haar.
As golden tresses combs she concupiscente
Sie kämmt es mit goldnem Kamme,
Flaxen tresses combs she with a golden comb
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
While luring strains her lips release in lyrical glee
Das hat eine wundersame,
Tinged in a soothing tuneful hum
Gewaltige Melodie.
Mighty stirring melody
Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
The rower in his narrow boat
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Seized is he with bewildering pain
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Oblivious is he of the Rock’s craggy grotte
Erschaut nur hinauf in die Höh’.
His eyes remain fixed high above the narrow main
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
I believe the waves did submerge
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
In the end both boatman and rowing boat
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
And the deed did with her singing merge
Die Lorelei getan.
That Lorelei had wrought.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, January 23, 2021
Vergossene Tränen, verloren,
versickert in der Vergangenheit
wie Frühlingsschnee
im September
Kein Grab, kein Stein,
für die Erinnerung,
ausgelöscht die Namen,
unvergessen das Leid
Die Birken im Wäldchen
verschlucken sich an dem Licht,
nur die Blätter verdecken die Sonne
mit traurigen Augen
Angst verbreitet sich stumm,
der Abgrund wirkt endlos
am Rand der Grube,
nur stumpfe Augen, nur lautlos die Münder
Die Schüsse verklingen im Tag,
erbarmungslos, das höhnische Gelächter,
aus grauen Uniformen ohne Gesicht.
Kein Vogelgesang, kein Rauschen im Wald
--------------------------------------------------
Poured tears, lost,
deep into the past
like spring snow
in September
No grave, no stone,
for remembrance,
extinguished the names
unforgotten the grief
The birches in the grove
choked by the light,
only the leaves cover the sun
with sad eyes
Fear spreads in silence,
the abyss seems endless
on the edge of the pit,
only dull eyes, only silently mouths
The shots die away in the day,
mercilessly, the disdainful laughter,
from gray uniforms without face.
No bird's song, no rushing in the woods
--------------------------------------------------
Lágrimas derrarmardas, perdidas,
resumarn en el pasado
como la nieve de primavera
en septiembre
Ninguna tumba, ni una piedra,
por el recordatorio,
borrado los nombres,
inolvidado el sufrimiento
Los abedules en el bosquito
se tragaran en la luz
sólo las hojas tapan el sol
con sus ojos tristes
El miedo está extendiendo en silencio,
el abismo se ve infinito
al borde del pozo,
sólo ojos apagados, silencioso las bocas
Los disparos se desvanecen en el día,
sin descanso, la risa burlona de los uniformes grises sin rostro.
No hay canto de pájaros,
ni susurrar en el bosque
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In 1941, Babij Yar near the Russian town of Kiev was the year of death of over seventy
thousand Jews, murdered by the Nazi unit of the SS.
Jevgeni Jevtushenko, the great Russian poet's poem Babij Yar was published in the
"Literaturnaja Gazeta" in 1961.
Before we look at iambic meter you must understand syllables, how they are used to break down words into separate sounds, an example, 'un/der/stand; a three syllable word. The latter, (word), is a single syllable one. Iambic meter uses 2 syllables, the first unstressed the second stressed. Together they are called a foot. Now if your feet are not suffering we have 5 foot to go. Iambic pentameter, a line 10 syllables long or 5 feet with the rhythm de//dah
/ de//dah / de//dah / de//dah /
de//dah. the bold dah being the stressed syllable. Of all the metered forms, (there are a few). The one discussed here is the form most commonly used by English poets, its said to follow our speech pattern. The rhythm is, (if writing in iambic meter), a must. A point I have not made clear is in 2 syllable words the second syllable is the one stressed! As for 4 syllable words, it is the second and forth. For 3 syllable words go see the poet Doctor, joking aside I try to make it the middle one, seriously I try to avoid them, for me, they are hard work! An example of iambic pentameter from William Shakespear's Sonnet XVII: Shall I compare thee to a sumers day? Just the first line, again the bold text represents the stressed syllable. The whole sonnet has the rhyme pattern ababcdcdefefgg. If you have read this far then you too must have fun writing, composing poetry, I do, I find it therapeutic, hope it helps to you too.
Pentameter, two syllables equal one foot, ten equal,
five, seems to stress some folk when the
stress should only be on the last sequel
of two words like this you can see
applied to alldouble syllabe words like treacle,
here the stress in bold text made easy,
the third line up in iambic meter sequel,
of four iambic feet, iambic tetrameter, da de,
da de, da de da de, the cycle,
triple syllable words, heed, yes, choose very carefully
Edited 7/8/18 - 24:27.30hrs
READS LIKE MUSIC - haibun look Poetry Contest, sponsored by Line Gauthier
7/8/18
Du Einsame,
in den Bergen getrotzt,
versteckt in den Wolken
getragen vom Geist des Inka,
hochgepriesen,
wie von Geisterhand
überragst du das
zerklüftete Tal des Urubamba.
Stein auf Stein,
gebaut mit großem Geschick,
geboren durch die Kraft
der Inkas.
Zufluchtstätte
der letzten Überlebenden,
verborgen vor den Augen
der Eindringlinge
aus dem so entfernten Spanien,
die Feuer und Tod brachten,
dich aber nie sahen.
Umhüllst dich noch heute
mit nebelgesponnenen Rätseln
wie neugeboren
aus tristem Gestein.
Deine Seele,
lebendig,
strahlt Erhabenes
und über deinen Mauern,
jetzt nur noch Heimstatt
der Götter,
zieht wie einst
der Kondor
seine vibrierenden Kreise.
---------------------------------------
You lonesome,
withstanding
in mountains,
hidden in clouds,
carried by the spirit of Incas,
highly praised,
as from ghostly hands
are you extending beyond
the rugged valley of the Urubamba.
Stone by stone,
built with spectacular craftmansship,
born by the power
of man.
Retreat
of the last survivors,
hidden from the eyes
of the intruders
from far away Spain,
who carried fire and death,
but never saw you.
You cover even today
in foggy-spun mystery
like newly born
from solitude stone.
Your spirit,
living,
radiates nobility
and above your murals
now only home of the Gods,
a condor is drawing as once
his vibrating circles.
------------------------------------------
Sitio solitario,
resistiendo en las montañas
escondido en las nubes
protegido por el espíritu del Inca,
egregio elogiado
como de una mano de fantasma
tu te levantas
sobre el valle hendido del Urubamba.
Piedra por piedra,
construido con gran destreza,
nacido por la fuerza
de los Incas.
Refugio
de últimos sobrevivientes,
escondido antes de los ojos
de invasores
del tan distante España,
que traeron fuego y muerte,
pero nunca te veían.
Te envuelves todavía
con enigmas hiladas por nieblas
como recién nacido
de rocas tristes.
Tu alma viva
brilla altura
y sobre tus murallas,
todavía sitio
de dioses,
gira como antiguamente
el condor
sus circulos vibrantes.
A cannibal of currency
You’re not yourself anymore.
Became your purse long ago,
Sense of self tied to coins
Of which you’ve never held.
Little man, little man,
where is your home?
The house on this hill
Just an empty shell
Painted like so much canvas.
There for the eyes of your peers
But your peers aren’t your friends
And your friends aren’t around
Tell me please, where did they go?
Little man, little man,
Do you hear the sound?
No one is calling your name
Where did they go
And where are they now
And why aren’t your friends in their homes?
Little man, little man
Do you hear the sound?
They’re making it plain as day.
You ate their income
Ate them of their house and their home.
A cannibal for currency-
Consumed all your friends,
Fat little pig on the hill.
Little man, little man
(You) can no longer ignore the sounds
Of ten thousand mouths
All hungry for you.
You ate their money
But you couldn’t stomach
The pure human spirit inside.
Now they have crawled back,
Out from the ghettos,
Starving and hungry for you.
Forced to eat each other,
You’ve all but raised cannibals,
But this time of flesh and of blood.
Little pig, little pig,
Can you hear the sound,
Or have you become deaf
To your own cries as well?
No one will miss you
You don’t have a home
Your friends became food
A long time ago.
(Die Geld von die Leute Sie Essen gekauft
Sie isst ihr Geld,
Mehr jeden Tag,
Kein Geld fur Essen
Sie isst Sich,
Jagd nach dem Hunger,
Fett kleiner Mann,
Jetzt der Jaeger ist Essen fur jeden Mund
Kleinen Schwein, Kleinen Schwein
Konnen Sie den ton horen?)*
Greasy lip smacks
Sound like ten thousand claps,
The only applause that you’ll ever hear.
----
*The absolutely horribly written German stanza (pls halp).
The money of the people bought their food
You ate their money, More every day,
No money for food, They ate themselves,
Hunting the hungry, Fat little man,
Now the hunter is food for every mouth,
Little pig, little pig, Can you hear the sound?
It’s been forever since I spoke any sort of German and it’s fading fast. Sad face.
Dear pain,
Remind me in case I've forgotten,
What relationship exists between us.
Tell me how it all started
The bad blood and hate towards me
That keeps you tormenting me,
Giving me a real taste of hell's stench
No matter how often I choose to let you win.
When a good day comes my way
You curse with and between your teeth
Till you get my gown all soiled up,
Wet with my own tears and blinded by sadness
That the altar I see no more.
Each smile that sprouts through my cheeks,
You use as the trigger
To generate me more agony and regret
That I can't wish for breath but my casket.
I fight you not,unless I seek to be free,
Off the cuffs of your slavery
That leads me always to the closed gates.
Don't you see how bad you are?
You shorten my life whenever hope fills my heart,
And stand in the way of my every plan.
In every Godly story,you want to be the devil's child,
And you're that beast's lover I've always read in tales,
My long gone and unrecognizable ancestor,
That appears in my dreams to scare me out of my sleep.
You plead innocence while you riot against peace!
Say it to my face,why you weigh me down,
Giving me more darker days than nights,
Eating my flesh off my bones day by day,
Making red the color of my eyes like I drink from blood;
Loosening my skin's elasticity that I've grown wrinkles
At my young age,
When my beauty should be my grandmother's envy;
Admit to me,
If you're that unsatisfiable spirit of the witches,
That demands sacrifice after sacrifice!
I seek to understand,
Whether you are attracted to me by Van der waal forces,
Or whether I was chosen to be held your hostage,
In a heist that earns you no game.
Am I serving to you under a renewable contract,
That whenever my time is up,
You automatically renew it to keep me yours forever?
The newly wed may divorce tomorrow,
Why not we, two enemies that cross not paths?
You can not kill me for you have not the power,
So each time I kneel down and close my eyes to pray,
I'll always report you to the greatest of all
For in him is my only hope you can't take from me!
Da war etwas welches ich geschrieben wollen würde,
es war aber nicht mehr ganz in mein Gehirne,
Lass mich nochmal nachdenken,
Über das Gedankgeschenke'
Müsse es gewesen sein?
Ich schaue auf den Mann der mag mir übel sein,
Er hatte aber schöne Wein gestein'
Mit dem Wagen er rumfahr:
,,Wissen sie was ich wollen denken mag?"
,,Waren sie nicht der mir melken half?"
,,Die Uhrzeit lässt die Mutter aber vor dem fenster starr'
Gehen Sie nachhaus jungelein mit ehepaar"
,,Ich habe kein ehepaar?"
,,Nie würde wollen? Was machen sie denn fürs Geld das auf den Wolken nahrt'?"
,,Ich hätte was geschrieben wollen würde"
,,Schreiber also mit kein getürne.
Da verdienst auch nicht geld der Türme."
,,Ich brauche das nicht nein"
,,Also sie wollen würde?
Alle Menschen wollen würden?
Sie?"
,,Ich suche das wollen würden"
So schau ich durch das gebäude aus gebau
,,Hier im schnee gibts nur feier, trau mir müde!"
,,Ich erinner mich an kein gedüse''
,,Da brauchst du nicht so traurig schaun"
,,Doch, da war was er wolle mir sagen, warum hat er nicht gewagt?"
,,Du fragst laute ohne untertarn, da kannst du nicht wissen was er gemeint haben mag"
,,Es müsse was wichtig gewesen sein, mann"
,,Du weißt es also was er denke kann?"
,,Ja, nie würde er mich in hölle fahrn.
Ich wollte es niederschreiben in mein bücherkram"
,,Wenn du wirklich würde wollest, mache dir keine Sprüche über seiner protest.
Selber wisse du dann was er würde wolln.
Wenn nicht kommen mögen mag,
Dann hör auf dort zu schmolln wie ein sarg"
,,Oh!! Ich glaub ich weiß was er würde wollen zu sag!"
,,und das und das!"
,,TschöTschöTschö! Ich muss hinunter!"
,,Gut gut aber brech fir nicht die Beine munter."
,,ja ja!!"
So hielt ich an mein Hut aus seiden,
und mein gewande das im luft zerschmelze.
Stifte rot oder Stifte grün?
,,Wenn du müh wege wolln mag,
Wenn du lache wolln mag,
Wenn du Mama wolln mag,
aber keine dieser auf die sprüche der schreiber standen mag,
Wieso wolln du dann stehen?
Wenn er/sie/ er oder die katz würde wolln mag,
hättest du dich nicht gefragt,
was du würde wolln mag."
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS L.H. ANDRESS
GODS---ABOVE---THE---MOUN/TAIN...!
THERE---WERE---GODS/ABOVE---THE/MOUN/TAIN!
GODS---ABOVE---THE---MOUN/TAIN...!
THERE---WERE---GODS/ABOVE---THE/MOUN/TAIN!
HEA---VEN'S---ONLY---ABOVE/THAT-MOUN/TAIN!
HEA---VEN'S---ONLY---ABOVE/THAT-MOUN/TAIN!
THERE---WERE---GODS/ABOVE---THE/MOUN/TAIN!
WHEN---YOU/'R---ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
THAT'S---ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
AN---HELPLESS/LESS---YOU'RE---ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
YOU'RE---HELPLESS/LESS---YOU'RE---ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
IT'S---A/SONG---SO/SWEET---'N/TART!
A/SONG---TART---'N/SWEET!
HELPLESS---UPON/THAT/MOUN---TAIN!
WHEN---YOU'RE/HELPLESS---UPON/THAT---MOUNTAIN!
ZEUS---AIN'T/GOT---NO/TAKERS---BUT/LAKES---WELL?!?!
WHEN---YOU'RE/HELPLESS---UPON/THAT---MOUN/TAIN!
IT---MIGHT/BE---FOUR/TEEN---HUNDRED/YEARS---LATER!
SOME/TIME---IN/17---SEVENTY---SIX!
ZEUS---HE/WAS---A/CRY'N!
ZEUS---HE/WAS---A/CRY'N!
BOLT'N---LIGHTNING---HE/NEEDED---ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
BRACKETS---'N/BRACES---'N/BOLTS---OF/ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
HE---WAS/'NOTHER---WONDER!
ZEUS---HE/MADE---'NOTHER---WONDER!
WONDEROUS---AT/THE---BOARDS!
HE---WAS---WONDEROUS---AT/THE---BOARDS!
JUMPING---AN/LEAPING---HE---WAS/A---GOD!
JUMPING---AN/LEAPING---HE---WAS/A---GOD!
FACING---HE/HAD---A/SWEET---SWEET/FACE!
FACING---HE/HAD---A/FACE---TOO/SWEET!
GODS---ABOUT/THAT/MOUN---TAIN!
GODS---ABOVE/THAT/MOUN---TAIN!
IT'S---A/TALE---LIKE/THAT---SILLY/'OL
ROCK!
THAT---SILLY/'OL---ROCK!
SYSSI---PHUS---AN/HIS---BOUNCING/ROCK!
IT'S---A/TALE---LIKE/THAT---SILLY/'OL
ROCK!
THAT---SILLY/'OL---ROCK!
SYSSI---PHUS---AN/HIS---BOUNCING/ROCK!
HE---WAS/ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
HE---WAS/ROLLIN/THUN---DER!
AN---THE/STARS---RE---MEMBERED---TWENTY-FIVE-OR-SIX/TO-FOUR!
'CUZ---HE---WAS/MORE/THAN---SOME/SILLY'OL/NUM---BER!
AN---THE/STARS---RE---MEMBERED---TWENTY-FIVE-OR-SIX-TO-FOUR!
'CUZ---HE---WAS/MORE/THAN---SOME/SILLY'OL/NUM---BER!
HE---WAS/A---GOD!
HE---WAS/A---GOD!
THERE---WERE/GIANTS---IN/THE/LAND!
THERE---WERE/GIANTS---IN/THE/LAND!
I’ve a vast store of mem’ries about Chicago
as I’ve lived there for a couple of years
helping out in the parish of many immigrants,
especially Mexicans and Puerto Ricans.
I’ve made friends and a number of them
still continue to correspond by emails;
it’s like a treasure-trove of relationships -
where friendship makes a big difference.
I still remember when I get invitations
from people of other cultures in their homes;
their different cuisines and customs,
a great experience, a wealth of culture.
Chicago’s known for many attractions,
home of architecture with modern skyscraper
the neo-gothic Tribune Tower in the north
along with white Wrigley building in the city;
rich in architectural history, a sight to behold!
Its classic and modern architecture so far,
complements each other in visible terms,
with innovative ideas and creative designs
a special city with marvelous history.
Daniel Burnham, the famed architect,
designed the Merchandise Mart and others
significant to his life like ‘Paris on the Prairie’,
a tapestry of combined art of old and new.
Renowned architects with their respective styles
such as Frank Lloyd Wright and his prairie designs,
Louis Sullivan and his visible ornate facades
Ludwig Miles van der Rohe for modern styles.
Oh, Chicago, known also as the Windy City
so rich in history and its uniqueness too,
the time when a huge fire razed the city
destroyed lovely buildings in 1871.
Well, with the growing skyscrapers in the city
Chicago Spire, for instance, with its 150 stories
designed by a renowned architect Calatrava,
stands as the tallest building in North America.
With the so-called Trump Tower in its 92 stories
and then, Waterview Tower with its 90 stories,
Sears Tower, the skyscraper with its 110 stories,
that’s the only tallest among buildings in the U.S.
Oh well, this is Chicago in the landscape of beauty,
as a windy city, as well as a gateway to reality;
there’s meaning to trace back in history
there’s continuing progress towards this century.
Children of Xenophobia
Children eating bullets and firecrackers
Beggars of smile and laughter
Silent corpses sleeping away fertile dreams
Povo* chanting new nude wretched slogans
Overstayed exiles eating beetroot and African potato
Abortions and condoms batteries charging the lives of nannies and maids
Children of barefoot afternoons and uncondomized nights
Sweat chiselling the rock of your endurance
The heart of Soweto, Harare, Darfur, Bamako still beating like drums
Violence fumigating peace from this earth.
Kinder der Xenophobie
Kinder, die Kugeln und Feuerwerkskörper essen
Bettler von Lächeln und Lachen
Stille Körper die fruchtbare Träume wegschlafen
Povo* die neue nackte elende Slogans singen
Zu lang wegbleibende Exilierte die Rote Beete essen und Afrikanische Kartoffeln
Abtreibungen & Kondome Batterien die die Leben von Kinder- und Dienstmädchen aufladen
Kinder barfüßiger Nachmittage und kondomloser Nächte
Schweiß der den Fels deiner Ausdauer meißelt
Das Herz von Soweto, Harare, Darfur, Bamako schlägt noch wie Trommeln
Gewalt die Frieden wegräuchert von dieser Erde.
Translator's note:
* “the povo (the 'people' - referring to the low-income majority)” – This definition was offered in 1994. Cf. “[...] it has been frequently asserted that the access of the povo (the 'people'. - referring to the low-income majority) to the University of Zimbabwe has improved .” (Paul Bennell and Mkhululi Ncube, “A University for the Povo? The Socio-Economic Background of African University Students in Zimbabwe Since Independence”, in: Journal of Southern African Studies, Vol. 20, No. 4, Dec. 1994, pp. 587-601. – A skeptical asssessment of povo is offered by an apologist of the West who asserts that “the Povo masses are not attuned to the western format of democracy.” (Charles W. Duke, Zimbabwe: The Land That Weeps. Yeadon, Leeds, West Yorkshire : Best Books Online/ Mediaworld PR Ltd., 2003, p.83.)