Long Rota Poems
Long Rota Poems. Below are the most popular long Rota by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rota poems by poem length and keyword.
Sumer is icumen in
anonymous Middle English poem, circa 1260 AD
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Summer is a-comin'!
Sing loud, cuckoo!
The seed grows,
The meadow blows,
The woods spring up anew.
Sing, cuckoo!
The ewe bleats for her lamb;
The cows contentedly moo;
The bullock roots;
The billy-goat poots ...
Sing merrily, cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo,
You sing so well, cuckoo!
Never stop, until you're through!
Sing now cuckoo! Sing, cuckoo!
Sing, cuckoo! Sing now cuckoo!
ALTERNATE OPENING LINES:
Summer is a-comin'!
Summer has come in again!
Summer has arrived again!
Summer has arrived!
NOTES: These notes were taken from the poem's Wikipedia page ...
Although the composer's identity is unknown today, it may have been W. de Wycombe. The manuscript in which it is preserved was copied between 1261 and 1264. This rota is the oldest known musical composition featuring six-part polyphony.
A sleazy greedy cheating single-minded
lying used car salesman with ambition
had higher aspiration hopes
of a top managerial position
altho' customer trust was a must
as the fast-talking low-life archetype
his focus was on moving their money
into his pocket with one fell swipe
so to move as much merchandise
as a man can possibly do
while on rota to meet his quota
he'd advertise 'Low mileage, good as new'
yet of the hundred motors or more
parked polished outdoors and on show
when viewers knew not what to purchase
and wanting a coupe which would go
as prospective buyers they'd ask in dismay
the pointed all-important question
'Which car should I buy, of those on display?'
he would reply, 'Try my auto suggestion.'
Precisa
AH!
Para voltar ao que era,
Sonhar com castelos
Imaginar as Índias
e índias na rota dos mares,
Inspirar marinheiros
A navegar as solidões.
Para encher num dia,
A vida e os negócios
Com sonhos,
Imaginação e
Inspiração,
Precisas
abrir bem os olhos
para o que já veio
e para o que virá!
Precisa ver
que toda a manhã que raia,
raia sempre no mesmo lugar
Não há manhãs sobre cidades, ou manhãs sobre o campo.
AH!
Para encher num dia,
A vida e os negócios
Com sonhos,
Imaginação e
Inspiração,
Precisa saber que
Todos os lugares são o mesmo lugar,
todas as terras são a mesma,
E é eterna
e de todos os lugares
a frescura que sobe por tudo...
I’m a servant of the universe
My rank is junior minder.
I care for the solar system
As its oiler and winder.
Everything is done
To a very strict rota,
Checking every cog
And cleaning every motor.
The star has its thermostat
Rigidly checked and set
Its fuel delivery schedule
Very rigorously met.
Each planet has its key
Kept on its own ring
So I can check and fix
Each internal spring:
Wind it too tight,
The planet runs fast.
Not tight enough
The wind won’t last.
I once got it wrong
In my apprentice stage,
Wiped out the dinosaurs
And caused an ice age.
You can imagine all the ribbing
At the staff centennial dinner
Apprentice of the moment?
Never was the winner.
I have my own staff now
The systems work just fine.
Guess it should last right
‘Til the end of time.
The Circle --- A Painting By Frida Kahlo
~~~
Caught between one life and another
my pain lengthens like a shadow of the moon
I am crumbling into fragments
like a fragile leaf, played with by the wind
O' dark angel of the night
You've slashed your talons across my life
You have pounced, without a care...
declaring my flesh and bone your own
I only hear you in the silence of despair....
My world is now this moment that does not move
O furtuna, sternit fortem
O furtuna, rota tu volubillis
Never was my life my own, never could it bend
A circle, round, I cannot be........but just a line that ends
Quod per sortem .... Sternit fortem,
A leaf, no longer, on the tree
Reflecting then, upon a sky
I reach a hand upon my crown
and I feel of death instead
My heart shrivels dry, a blackened rose, ...
Do you feel my pain?
Why must the flame of life grow dim?
With hope you soothe me in your whim
To take it all away?
This wretchedness is black as tar,
I taste the bitter blood!
There's darkness hidden in the depth
of who I used to be
I am like a leaf, played with by the wind
Do not turn eyes away...!
Torment me not, with heartless lust....
as flesh turns into dust!
______________________________________________________________
Based on the Painting 'THE CIRCLE'
For Cyndi's Contest: "Women Who Paint --Frida Kahlo"
8/19/13
http://www.fridakahlofans.com/c0611.html The Circle
Translation
O furtuna, (O' fortune) Rota tu volubilis, (you whirling wheel)
Sternit fortem, (strikes down the string)
Quod per sortem (since fate)
Antes era assim
Antes nos negócios e na vida
Todas as pessoas queriam...
Queriam palácios
e castelos sonhados;
Imaginar as Índias
E índias na rota dos mares,
Inspirar marinheiros
A navegar as solidões.
Hoje não,
Hoje querem;
De tudo,
de todos neste mundo
Perpétuos choques de prazer — humano
Mudando sempre...
De negócios e de vida!
AH! Como seria bom
De encher num dia,
A vasilha dos quereres,
Com muitas sensações,
Guardando forte a personalidade
Para vive-las num sentir.
AH! Como seria bom
De encher num dia,
A vida e os negócios
Com sonhos,
Imaginação e
Inspiração.
He is caught between one life and another
while my pain lengthens like a shadow of the moon
We are like leaves, played with by the wind
O lengthening dark vision
reaching across our lives
It came, at last, without a sound...
his leave taking came without a word,
but we both heard it in the silence....
His world is in the palm of his hand
and my world is this moment that does not move
O furtuna, sternit fortem
O furtuna, rota tu volubillis
Never was he mine, never was he not mine
The child, no longer, child that bends and sways
My eyes reflect the clouds upon the sky
for he reaches out a hand upon my crown
and I feel the gentle warmth upon my head
A knowing hand of man, not boy, that once I vowed to keep
must leave and know that I will weep
as if I am the child, ....not he,...instead
O fortuna, velut luna
Statu variabillis, semper crescis, aut decrescis;
I force a smile, and watch him fly away
Quod per sortem .... Sternit fortem,
never was he mine, never was he not mine
-----------------------------------
For Deb's Contest: Bi-Lingual
Latin translated
----
O Fortuna (O Fortune)
Velut luna (like the moon)
Statu variabilis (you are changeable)
Semper crescis (ever waxing)
Aut decrescis; (and waning;)
Quod per sortem (since Fate)
Sternit fortem, (strikes down the string)
Rota tu volubilis, (you whirling wheel)
Corde pulsum tangite; (pluck the vibrating strings;)
Quod per sortem (since Fate)
Sternit fortem, (strikes down the string)
waltz blazing sirens from shores of the frosted tomorrow
just look around and behold everything that makes our souls distant
l’existence est ailleurs! my negatively dear Clementine
in this omnipotent Babylon of boredom whoredom
where our shapes slowly turn shadowless
turning in their dreamless sleep
glide around our glacier home
and we follow the fireflies among the languorous joshua trees
into the land of dandy lions and burning monks
into the tinfoil country of cowboys riding the giant amoebas
feverish orchids on the horizon where the fire alarm is always on
so run & hop on the railroad to false paradise
where we will dance alone and leave footprints in the garden
leave footprints on every rooftop
then walk up the clock tower to the ghost of a friendly lamp-lighter
who will help us from within to banish the darkening
and light up our own dungeons of blood candy splendour
as multiple painted phantoms of Van Gogh’s ear
listen to the foghorn music of pallid depths
in our much adored papier-maché sea shell mansion
our lovely cul-de-sac, stellar and crystalline, vanishing on a rota basis
standing in still life as a crescent groom, as graves on the Moon
opening the frontiers for a cosmis octopus, a zealot, a hypocrite
headless and worshipping the order of the howling iris
which makes our nosebleed grow longer like shadows do at dusk
and that’s when I love to unwind that brass hair
of your golden-haired psyche