Long Nobel Poems
Long Nobel Poems. Below are the most popular long Nobel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nobel poems by poem length and keyword.
Gitanjali 11
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Leave this vain chanting and singing and counting of beads:
what Entity do you seek in this lonely dark temple corner with all the doors shut?
Open your eyes and see God is not here!
He is there where the tiller tills the hard ground and the paver breaks stones.
He is with them in sun and shower; his garments are filthy with dust.
Shed your immaculate mantle and like him embrace the dust!
Deliverance? Where is this "deliverance" to be found?
Our master himself has joyfully embraced the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all forever!
Cease your meditations, abandon your petals and incense!
What harm is there if your clothes become stained rags?
Meet him in the toil and the sweat of his brow!
These are modern English translations of poems by the great Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), who has been called the "Bard of Bengal" and "the Bengali Shelley." In 1913 Tagore became the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Tagore was also a notable artist, musician and polymath.
Gitanjali 35
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been divided by narrow domestic walls;
Where words emerge from the depths of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not been lost amid the dreary desert sands of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
Keywords/Tags: Translation, Tagore, Bengali, God, Religion, Prayer, Chanting, Singing, Counting, Beads, Dark, Temple, Doors, Shut, Tiller, Ground, Paver, Stones, Sun, Shower, Garments, Clothes, Mantle, Dust, Deliverance, Master, Creation, Unity, Meditation, Petals, Flowers, Incense, Rags, Toil, Sweat, Brow, Work, Labor, Hindi, vain, worship, entity, God, temple, chanting, singing, counting, beads, petals, incense, meditations, tiller, paver, dust, rags, sweat, toil, mrburdu, Tagore, Rabindranath Tagore, India, Indian, poet, Bengali, sea, seashore, children, mother, dog, love, lover, patience, curtain, death
Whatever happened with Bob Dylan and the Nobel Prize?
I remember it vaguely, for I was sailing afar
There was no response when the announcement was made
Just silence, with the door left ajar
Bob won the Prize in 2016
Or so they said up in Sweden
But where was Bob when the announcement was read?
Was he laying down on his big brass bed?
Would he ever respond to that which was said?
Or was he just blowin’ in the wind
The time clicked on, for days and weeks, but still no answer came.
How many days must a board wait long, before the prize be claimed?
His clothes were dirty, his hands were clean
He was the best thing we’d ever seen
Perhaps he was down in New Orleans
But hardly a word was framed
He had to perform, or lecture it’s called
To claim the booty that accompanied
The prize itself, a $900K bounty
Which required a song and his company
Bob was the first songwriter it seems
To receive the prestigious award
But the ceremony took place in a private affair
And they said that Bob appeared bored
He finally replied in a letter
And basically said there were better, than he
He claims he shouldn’t have ever been one
To stand with the literature giants who’d come
Before him, like Hemingway, Kipling, and Shaw
His songs weren’t the same, that’s just what he saw
He thought he was more like Shakespeare
who was often concerned
with matters like craft, crowds, and crowns
For he was a playwright and wanted to know
If the people were there from all of the towns
Not whether his words were of literary note
But where would he find a skull he could tote
For what is an artist, can it truly be known?
Perhaps not in his time for the artist alone
But the academy didn’t agree with his words
In fact they felt like this was absurd, for they saw
One who “created poetic expressions
within the great American song tradition”
And wanted to show that his compilation
Of songs were important to all generations!
And so, Bob Dylan won the prize
And I for one am glad
For his words are poetic and awesome in size
Although often they happen to criticize
The ones who are trying to politicize
The people are crying and along with their cries
“The times, they are a changin’”
Yes, “the times, they are a changin’”
--All my writings are at mraymus.medium.com
Bring Peace to Whole World
Introduction.
This is Jim Horn who loves writing poetry and posting it
on Poetry Soup. I also hate typing. It is now 0500 in the
morning and I am just starting to prepare my latest poem.
Just started my Hawaiian Blend cup of coffee and am
drinking it. Laptop is in my lap and notebook with my
poems in it is on left side of me. I am reading what I
wrote down and posting it to Poetry Soup right now.
I always write down my poems in my notebook first.
My fingers seem to naturally flow onto the peace of
paper. Typing it up on computer is one of my dislikeable
points and even despicable as a cartoon character said.
This poem to me is the best that I have ever written. It
explains exactly how I would like my poem treated and
properly respected. I am the first to have broken Haiku
not Hiaku rules by rhyming some of the lines. To me,
this is a modernized version of haiku. Oh, and one other
thing. The website address should be at the bottom of each
poem so it can be located. Here is an example that was just
sent to me: www.poetrysoup.com/poem/quiet_of_the_night_696787
Lastly but not leastly, I feel that every poem should start off with an
introduction. Now on with the show and my poem. Jim Horn
Sun soon arose and later started to set
Then I would write one best ever and yet
That a poet has been written before
Will love everyone and thoroughly adore.
So great my poem always will be to me
Deep as an ocean wide like some sea
And tall mountain majestic and mighty
To be taken seriously and not lightly.
When further and further into poem explore
You will always appreciate it more and more
And somewhat later much to my very surprise
Poem would win a Nobel and Pulitzer Prize.
Prize by my President to me was presented
And to read it before Congress I consented
Poem is attached to wall in an archive
Forever and ever there it will survive.
God who I praise and because of Him
My each poem is in a book all of them
So you can now read and start to sing
Peace to whole world thy all will bring.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
All comments and criticisms are gladly welcomed.
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/bring_peace_to_whole_world_697785
Elegy on the Death of Vicente Aleixandre, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : Elegia en la muerte de Vicente Aleixandre
(Born in 1923, Carlos Bousono, a renowned prize-winning Spanish poet and eminent theoretician on the aesthetics of poetry, held the Chair of Stylistics at the Central (Complutense) University of Madrid. ; later as E-meritus.
He wrote his doctoral dissertation, in 1950, on the poetry of Vicente Aleixandre, the recepient of the 1977 Nobel Prize for Literature. It is evident, he witnessed the Nobel laureate’s passing in 1984. Bousono’s every lecture, delivered off the cuff, earned him an indomitabe world-wide reputation. T. Wignesan)
In Death
Eyes that kept looking
so full of pain
on the last day, hardly moments
before dying,
and from the deathbed
he recalled in sadness,
from far away, very far away though somewhat hazily,
those days with his friends,
out there in the distance
of his childhood,
having himself a great time,
life even then being immortal,
they (may have) roamed through small orchards, or through the
pinewood, or the soaring heights
bathed palpitatingly in the light.
Then to run, concealing themselves,
in the rear of some thickets, awhile :
why were they not being called to
yet from the house.
A little later, a little later feeling really lonesome
for the very last time, and that would be it.
And when they put
a crown on his head as on the king of the world
the day when it all came to pass
the king* had reigned for seven years,
seven years as lord
over everyone in the universe : the air, the sea.
He breathed. He looked tired
and the impossibility. Life, the crown,
painted cardboard, feeling yet happy,
later in love, in the company
of those slinging shots, such happiness. Years without
knowing doubt, and all that was
just an instant so lonely,
bitter grief
real.
And now the tears –
he who never cried – filled his eyes,
sliding down ever so slowly
over his pale cheeks,
soaking the skin,
the mouth,
and continued sliding
even though he was already dead.
The tears lasted longer
than his sorrow-laden eyes.
Much longer
than his own pain.
• Probably a reference to King Juan Carlos of the House of Bourbon.
© T. Wignesan – Patis, 2013
Wired mortal from the English Art
Banished from his home, spotted from a distance
Noble amongst scrawling African inscriptions
First veneration of mystical minds
Take a bow, take a bow.
Obliterating deliberate disregard
From interrupters of our histories,
With trophies, allays a regret and loss
So little for so great a heart,
Take a bow, take a bow.
Liberal lord of limpid looks
Grand philosophy too many for little minds,
Art of African arts
Impenetrable obscurity to the impatient,
Take a bow, take a bow.
Entangled genus in the darkest harbor,
Found in a waste howling wilderness,
Left to die in the gaols like their many kills,
And death too weak, spewed him in his flowers
Take a bow, take a bow.
Scrupulous dexterity of the bearded laurel
Multitudinous nobility and countless soothing saccharine
A restoration of our dignity not celebrated, and un-sung.
Tyrannous candor engulfed intelligential
Take a bow, take a bow.
Obdurate at the palaces of murderers
Smiling at military cavalcades, the terror of comrades.
Where barrels pacify the wrangling of children men.
A beholding bluff like Ogun’s iron garb
Take a bow, take a bow.
Yea, the snow-like signature in scraggy form
Impresses nature’s validity on his authority,
Corroding flesh lacerate aptness from his brow
Gyrating orbits of unmatched intelligence
Take a bow, take a bow.
Invisible man from the “kongi” kingdom
Imposing trepidation on pharaohs in the jungle,
Brawny penchant where others retire,
On Lagos streets and London’s courtyard
Take a bow, take a bow.
Nibble in niggle, stripping rogues of honor
Loathing unsavory milk unlike sycophants
Discarding opulence to mediate for the poor
With no reward or crown in intention
Take a bow, take a bow.
Knack for wars with imperious monsters
A constant blustery of unrepentant “Vagabonds”
Dusk till dawn, yearning for Justice.
Crying still, for murdered motherland
Take a bow, take a bow.
And if he dies tomorrow,
As death to all must come,
His posture, a statue for ever,
On our minds and in those rulers of the jungle.
Take a bow, take a bow.
Dedicated to Prof. Wole Soyinka
Nobel Laurate 1986
Rewrote our History books for the world to see
A worthier Icon there could never be,
Born and died over the span short of a century,
Baba Madiba became South Africa’s first Black
President in April 1994, finally, eventually!
Nelson Mandela was destined for this role,
As the masses empowered, flocked to the pole
A lawyer, an activist, a prisoner, a free soul,
His peaceful anti apartheid activism, a thorn
In the Government's side, but after Sharpeville,
His sabotaging tactics against those opposing
The ANC, brought about his arrest, his only desire
The African National Congress to be recognized
Was his goal.
He was incarcerated, but at his trial, he defended
His people with heartfelt passion
He would one day he promised
Become their liberator and stop inhumane
Tyranny – for this end he was prepared to die,
Outside the court among the masses, there
Wasn’t a dry eye.
And no bloodshed did South Africa see,
As was anticipated, rumours abounded, but
A kind, intelligent and brave leader, imprisoned for
Twenty seven years,
Changed an era with peace and raised no fears.
He was a much loved President by black and white,
He was elected for two terms, after which until he
Died, became a worldwide renown humanitarian
Across the globe international leaders
Praised and revered this humorous, intellectual
Man who chose to be honest, just and right.
He passed on December 5th at the age of 95 in
2013, indeed a sad event.
Which not even the Almighty could prevent.
Known lovingly as, Baba Madiba, Father Madiba
In Africa, our vast Continent, a multiracial face
Began to appear, no matter the race.
When he died,
By his side,
Were his loving children
And grandchildren and Graca Machel, his wife,
Who with Baba Madiba,
Shared a happy marriage and life.
A hero who cemented together a democratic state,
When the entire world thought, it was already too late.
* SHARPEVILLE A MASSACRE OF UNARMED BLACK SOUTH AFRICANS BY POLICE FORCES
* BOTH PRESIDENT MANDELA AND EX PRESIDENT DE KLERK JOINTLY RECEIVED THE NOBEL
PRIZE FOR REALIZING THE TIME HAD COME FOR PEACE, AND THEREFORE BRINGING
APARTHEID TO AN END.
THIRUK-KURAL on not offending the Great*: Periyaaraip Pilaiyaamai - Canto 90, K899 and K900
[* The "Great" here are indifferently the King or other learned and wise people whom the King ought to respect and fear. In this canto, Thiru-Valluvar repeats himself (though elegantly, cf. K899 & K900) - unless it were for the purpose of reinforcing the idea of the weak who dare pit themselves against the strong and powerful - and contrariwise the strong and cruel meet the same fate of ruin if they incurred the wrath of the noble and virtuous-minded. It is evident nothing anti-authoritarian was permitted or conceivable in his time. Yet, reflect on how Lenin outlived the Tsars; Solzhenytsin and Pasternak - Stalin and his successors, just as George Washington - the British Imperial Crown; Vietnam veterans - Nixon; Li Xiaobo - thanks to the Nobel Committee and other campaigners like Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International who would shut an eye to wanton persecution within Western democracies - Xi of the Peoples Republic; the German Jews - Hitler; but NOT the one-man (Sri Lankan) opposition leader Jeyaretnam in Lee Kuan Yew's Singapore.]
K899: eenthiya kolkaiyaar siirin idaimurinththu
veenthanum veenthu kedum
When blazes forth the wrath of men of lofty fame,
Kings even fall from high estate and perish in the flame. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
If those of exalted vows burst in a rage, even (Indra) the king will suffer a sudden loss and be entirely ruined. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Should the virtuous in lofty positions become angry, even the king (of kings) will fall from high heaven. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K900: iranthuamaintha saarpudaiyar aayinum uyyaar
siranththuamaintha siiraar cherin
Though all-surpassing wealth of aid the boast,
If men in glorious virtue great are wrath, they're lost. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
Though in possession of numerous auxiliaries, they will perish who are exposed to the wrath of the noble whose penance is boundless. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
No way the powerful can avoid downfall should they offend and incur the wrath of the noble-minded greats. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Africa Kills Her Sun in Ken Saro-Wiwa short story
So far the greatest short story i've ever read
Where the blackest pen lives
With the blackest ink with the darkest hue
Yet the blackest truth out there even to this day
Of the oppression, dictatorship, killings, fear, corruption and discrimination
A call for freedom
Africa still living in the shadows of colonialism
But Africa took an initiative, a positive compass
Mary Muthoni Nyanjiru, an unsung hero
Shot dead during the colonial era for her fight against colonialism
Wangari Maathai, the first African woman to win the Nobel peace prize
She planted one tree at a time, a voice for the environment, a fighter for women rights
Charity Kaluki Ngilu has played many roles in politics
One of the first kenyan female presidential candidates
I still remember the 1997 elections
Pamela Jelimo and Catherine Ndereba
Through their marathons, they have paved many seas
I remember those cross country days back in primary school, it was tough
I applaud you girls
Grace Ogot, East African best known woman author
The mother of Kenyan literature
Her words had power, and her actions showed it
Captain Irene Koki Mutungi, the first African female dreamliner captain
Flying higher and higher, more girls dreaming higher and higher
Kakenya Ntaiya, among the top 10 CNN heroes of 2013
I've listened to your Ted Talk of "a girl who demanded education"
About how at the age 12 you made a deal with your dad to undergo female circumcision if he would let you go to highschool
And that happened, you even went to college
And then came back and founded a school for young girls
Lupita Nyong'o, it was hard to watch "12 Years a Slave"
Because truth brings out a lot of anger, but at the same time it has to be told
The first Kenyan actress to win an Academy Award.
It nice to see you in magazines but it feels even more nice to know that there is a girl out there in some village
Who now believes it's possible because of you
Africa saved her daughter, and by doing so
It saved all
Sources > coming soon:-)
(Taking headlines from October 1964,
the poem revisits our shared experience ...)
Monday 5: Fifty-Four East Germans Tunnel to Freedom
Back then, it was not in doubt,
(Richard Burton Tony Quinn):
the Wall was there to keep us out?
No – built, in fact, to keep them in.
Thursday 8: Beatles Release “She’s a Woman”
My love don’t give me presents.
East is east and west is west –
Ringo passed his driving test –
Blofeld looks like Donald Pleasence.
Monday 12: The Moog Synthesizer Makes Its Debut
It’s fantastic! It’s so new!
Music made in outer space!
Now we’ll win the missile race!
How we love you, Doctor … Who?
Wednesday 14: Martin Luther King Awarded Nobel Peace Prize
Hypatia, Gandhi, Jesus Christ
and Socrates … he was that good:
and just like them, he knew he would
so very soon be sacrificed.
Wednesday 14: Khrushchev Deposed
Now, here’s a man who really tried.
It’s thanks to him, that Cuba fright
didn’t end in Nuclear Night.
Reward? His thugs brush him aside.
Wednesday 21: My Fair Lady Film Premiere
Can a statue have a heart?
Can what’s vulgar morph to art?
Entertainment as idea?
Tin Pan Alley’s Galatea.
Monday 26: Eric Edgar Cooke Executed, Western Australia
Cleft palate, hare lip.
Bullied here, bullied there.
Mumbling moron, bloody crip.
Then they hang him. Life ain’t fair.
Thursday 29: Audacious Diamond Robbery in New York
Banner headlines in the papers.
Daring crimes, coolest capers.
They’re classy crooks, they’ll fence their loot
in Buenos Aires, or Beirut.
(In the real world, how'd it go?
Look at 31 below.)
Saturday 31: Lyndon Johnson Proclaims the Great Society
Nothing novel, or unique:
his vision was for Uncle Sam
to help the luckless, tend the weak.
One word destroyed him. Vietnam.
Saturday 31: New York Diamond Robbers Caught
Tiffany studs? More Studs L. Terkel.
One rock alone, a hundred grams,
Murph the Surf’s men on the lam:
they didn’t make Columbus Circle.
Saturday 31: Goose Kills Astronaut
Theo Freeman was his name,
test-pilot/astronaut his game.
Ejector seats are not much use
against a full-grown Galveston goose.
Jacques Daviel
A brilliant eye specialist Jaques Daviel,
does his cataract field at all ring a bell?
the word cataract used with utmost respect,
on his vision and foresight I duly reflect
Francisus Donders
In the same branch was Francisus Donders,
in ocular tracts the man worked wonders,
some Dutch streets bare this specialist's name,
Tilburg his birth place blessed by his fame
Joseph Forlenze
With regard to eye matters Joseph Forlenze,
became popular during French Empire let’s say,
a healer of others among them big names,
the poor got his expertise true legend claims
Allvar Gullstrand
Nobel prize winner Swede Allvar Gullstrand,
I select in this eye treatment pantheon grand,
his scholarly efforts portraying the ‘schematic eye’,
whose model of measurements to this day still apply
Herman Von Helmholz
Notable surgeon and physicist Herman Von Helmholtz,
whose top stunning feats in science fill massive vaults,
those numeric concepts on colour, sight and vision,
profound in their scope and far beyond derision
Jules Gonin
Retinal pioneer Switzerland don Jules Gonin,
prestigious eye treatment award he just didn’t win,
he earned a distinction for study of butterflies,
among his achievements and valid career highs
Charles Schwepens
Founder of Eye Research Institute Charles Scwepens,
who hailed from mouscron Belgium as it happens,
to begin with he opted for course in high maths,
before veering towards life long optical paths
Thomas Pashby
Safe sports eye care advocate Thomas Pashby,
not alone for that but prevention of spinal cord injury,
invited to Canada’s sports revered fine hall of fame,
this man knew the score and demands of the game
Tsutomu Sato
Deviser of glass scleral lens Tsutomu Sato,
a vision rich breakthrough in terms long ago,
never a widely used product this creative lens,
incipient story or tale where the eye never bends!
Thomas Von Leber
The first to spot rare eye disease Thomas Von Leber,
eternally grateful we are for this eminent favour,
German society scholarship named in his honour,
a fitting reward for this knight in shining armour