Hoy es un día especial, y por eso no sólo tenemos una publicación musical sobre el amor, sino también sobre literatura: poesía, novelas, ensayos, guiones de obras de teatro, etc. Así que os presentamos la selección de textos de (des)amor del equipo de The Philologist UGR y de varios/as profesores/as del Departmento para este San Valentín 2017, ordenadas para que puedas ver quién ha seleccionado cada texto. ¡Esperamos que disfrutéis de esta selección y de este día!
Selección de M.M.L.
“I Love You” – Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Selección de E.R.S.
Cartas a un joven poeta – Rainer Maria Rilke
Selección de F.G.R.
II (From Twenty-one Love Poems) – Adrienne Rich
I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.
Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other,
you’ve been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed:
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I’ve been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You’ve kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone . . .
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to everyone I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.
“Wild Nights – Wild Nights!” – Emily Dickinson
Sonnet 43 (From Sonnets from the Portuguese) – Elizabeth Barret Browning
Selección de J.V.R.
Trópico de Cáncer – Henry Miller
“El mundo que me rodea está desintegrándose y deja aquí y allá motas de tiempo. El mundo es un cáncer que se devora a sí mismo…Estoy pensando en que, cuando el gran silencio descienda sobre todo y por doquier, la música triunfará por fin. Cuando todo vuelva a retirarse a la matriz del tiempo, reinará el caos de nuevo y el caos es la partitura en que se escribe la realidad. Tú, Tania, eres mi caos. Por eso canto. Ni siquiera soy yo, es el mundo agonizante que muda la piel del tiempo. Todavía estoy vivo, dando patadas dentro de tu matriz, realidad sobre la que escribir.”
“The Sun Rising” – John Donne
Selección de S.M.C.
Sonnet 130 – Shakespeare
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Sonnet 75 – Edmund Spencer
Selección de S.G.L.
The Parliament of Fowls – Geoffrey Chaucer (lines 309-322)
For this was on Saint Valentines day,
Whan every brid cometh ther to chese
Of every kinde that men thinke may;
And that so huge a noise gan they make,
That erthe and air and tree and every lake
So ful was that unnethe was ther space hardly
For me to stonde, so ful was al the place.
And right as Alain in the “Plainte of Kinde”
Deviseth Nature in array and face, describes
In swich array men mighte hire there finde.
This noble emperesse, ful of grace, empress
Bad every fowl to take his owene place,
As they were wont alway, from yeer to yere,
Saint Valentines Day, to stonden there.
Sonnet 116 – Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken,
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Romeo and Juliet – Shakespeare
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so:
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
“So well go no more a roving” – Lord Byron
So we’ll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
“A Decade” – Amy Lowell
When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread,
Smooth and pleasant.
I hardly taste you at all for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished.
“I like my body when it is with you” – E. E. Cumings
I Like My Body When It Is With Your
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
ELEGY XX “To His Mistress going to bed” – John Donne
COME, madam, come, all rest my powers defy ;
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th’ eyes of busy fools may be stopp’d there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th’ hill’s shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet, and show
The hairy diadems which on you do grow.
Off with your hose and shoes ; then softly tread
In this love’s hallow’d temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven’s angels used to be
Revealed to men ; thou, angel, bring’st with thee
A heaven-like Mahomet’s paradise ; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite ;
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O, my America, my Newfoundland,
My kingdom, safest when with one man mann’d,
My mine of precious stones, my empery ;
How am I blest in thus discovering thee !
To enter in these bonds, is to be free ;
Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be.
Full nakedness ! All joys are due to thee ;
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta’s ball cast in men’s views ;
That, when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul might court that, not them.
Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus array’d.
Themselves are only mystic books, which we
—Whom their imputed grace will dignify—
Must see reveal’d. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself ; cast all, yea, this white linen hence ;
There is no penance due to innocence :
To teach thee, I am naked first ; why then,
What needst thou have more covering than a man?
Selección de Encarnación Hidalgo Tenorio (profesora del Departamento de Inglés):
The Good-Morrow – John Donne
Selección de Rebecca Cramer:
“Was es ist” – Erich Fried
Es ist Unsinn
sagt die Vernunft
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe
Es ist Unglück
sagt die Berechnung
Es ist nichts als Schmerz
sagt die Angst
Es ist aussichtslos
sagt die Einsicht
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe
Es ist lächerlich
sagt der Stolz
Es ist leichtsinnig
sagt die Vorsicht
Es ist unmöglich
sagt die Erfahrung
Es ist was es ist
sagt die Liebe
Selección de Gerardo Rodríguez Salas:
“Camomile Tea” – Katherine Masfield
Probably it is too early in the morning;
probably you have not yet risen
and the curtains float
like sails against the window.
But whatever, whatever the time, the place, the season,
here I am again at your door,
bringing a bunch of reasons why I should enter,
Probably it is too early inside you yet
for you to gather together what you are and you speak;
But whatever, whatever the time, the place, the season,
it is certainly good to have come this far,
to know what I am and not mistrust.
The earth has many hands and doors upon
which these hands are knocking.
There are chairs for some on which to sit
more patient than the rest,
And here I am again and again am knocking,
holding a fist of primonia
dressed to kill
clean dustless and idiotic.
I might be thought mad, insane or stupid;
My belief in you might be totally unfounded;
it might be called utterly romantic,
but what the hell?
Here I am again and again am knocking,
But probably it is too early;
probably I’m too eager to come rushing towards you,
impatient to share what glows
while there is still
what glows around me.
I bang on the door of the world.
You are asleep behind it
I bang on the door of the world
as my own heart a world’s been hammering.
Selección: Equipo The Philologist UGR, Encarnación Hidalgo Tenorio, Rebecca Cramer, Gerardo Rodríguez Salas y M.F.S. (profesores/as del departamento)
Fuentes (por orden de aparición):
- “I Love You” – Ella Wheeler Wilcox: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/50334
- Cartas a un joven poeta – Rainer Maria Rilke: Rilke, Rainer Maria (2016) Cartas a un joven poeta. Elegías de Duino. Madrid: Akal.
- II ((From Twenty-one Love Poems)) – Adrienne Rich: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/twenty-one-love-poems-poem-ii
- “Wild Nights – Wild Nights!” – Emily Dickinson: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44087
- Sonnet 43 (From Sonnets from the Portuguese) – Elizabeth Barret Browning: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/43742
- Trópico de Cáncer – Henry Miller: Miller, Henry. Trópico de Cáncer. Madrid: Suma de Letras, 2003.
- “The Sun Rising” – John Donne: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/resources/learning/core-poems/detail/44129
- Sonnet 130 – Shakespeare: http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/130.html
- Sonnet 75 – Edmund Spenser: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/45189
- The Parliament of Fowls – Geoffrey Chaucer (lines 309-322): https://www.wwnorton.com/college/english/nael/noa/pdf/08Fowls_1_17.pdf
- Sonnet 116 – Shakespeare: Shakespeare, William. “Sonnet 116”. William Shakespeare Complete Works. Bate, J. & Rasmussen, E. (Eds). Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 2455.
- Romeo and Juliet – Shakespeare: Shakespeare, William. “The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet”. William Shakespeare Complete Works. Bate, J. & Rasmussen, E. (Eds). Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 1707.
- “So well go no more a roving” – Lord Byron: Gordon, George. “So we’ll go no more a roving”. The Norton Anthology of English Literature. The Romantic Period. Greenblatt, S. (Ed). W.W. Norton & Company. 2006. 620.
- “A Decade” – Amy Lowell: http://www.poemofquotes.com/amylowell/decade.php
- “I like my body when it is with you” – E. E. Cumings: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1590/i-like-my-body-when-it-is-with-your/
- ELEGY XX “To His Mistress going to bed” – John Donne: http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/elegy20.htm
- “The Good-Morrow” – John Donne: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44104
- “Was es ist” – Erich Fried: http://www.erichfried.de/Was%20es%20ist.htm
- “Camomile Tea” – Katherine Masfield: http://www.katherinemansfieldsociety.org/assets/KM-Poems/Camomile-Tea1916.pdf
- “Probably it is too early in the morning” – Brian Patten: The Mersey Sound