I think continually....
I think continually....
This is one of my favorite poems....
By: Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Should tell of the Spirit, clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.
What is precious, is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog, the flowering of the Spirit.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields,
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire's centre.
Born of the sun, they travelled a short while toward the sun
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
By: Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Should tell of the Spirit, clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.
What is precious, is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog, the flowering of the Spirit.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields,
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire's centre.
Born of the sun, they travelled a short while toward the sun
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
- Byron
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Come to the edge, he said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, he said.
They came.
He pushed them, and they flew...
Guillaume Apollinaire (1880 - 1918)
French poet.
Oh for such teachers.
I wasn't sure if this could go in here or in john k's thread about that b8stard teacher. So I listened to the voices and Albert said put it here, so I did.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, he said.
They came.
He pushed them, and they flew...
Guillaume Apollinaire (1880 - 1918)
French poet.
Oh for such teachers.
I wasn't sure if this could go in here or in john k's thread about that b8stard teacher. So I listened to the voices and Albert said put it here, so I did.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
- tom.d.stiller
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- Contact:
Dear Byron,
can you give me the title of the Apollinaire poem? If it exists, that is.
To my knowledge these lines, appearing in several variations, are falsely attributed to Apollinaire.
Indeed they are written as late as 1968 for a festival in honor of the 50th anniversary of the death of the french poet Guillaume Apollinaire by Christopher Logue, born in Hampshire, England, in 1926.
Cheers
tom
can you give me the title of the Apollinaire poem? If it exists, that is.
To my knowledge these lines, appearing in several variations, are falsely attributed to Apollinaire.
Indeed they are written as late as 1968 for a festival in honor of the 50th anniversary of the death of the french poet Guillaume Apollinaire by Christopher Logue, born in Hampshire, England, in 1926.
I can be wrong, of course, but I spent some time in vain locating the original words...Come to the Edge
Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It's too high!
Come to the edge.
And they came,
and we pushed,
And they flew.
Cheers
tom
- Byron
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hello tom. I have bookshelves full of ......books, which I plunder at will when I need to expess a thought what gets in my head and I know that somewhere inside the pages there will always be a quote that can sum up what I want to say. This point has been mentioned recently by other contributers who have books they still haven't got around to reading yet.
I take your point about the provenance (correct word?) of quotes and have found other examples of similarly presented pieces that have different authors attributed to them. Even The Bible is quoted as written by G-d, but Margaret Attwood uses Grace Marks and others in Alias Grace, to make the point that men wrote the words and pruned some of the stuff that, those men didn't approve of.
So as in most writing and research, we find once again that title belongs to one, some, few or even many.
Finding a primary source is the goal of all research in these matters and as you've pointed out, there are claims for this piece.
For my own part, I am happy to leave ownership to whoever can claim it, whilst enjoying the sentiment and thought provoking essence of the words.
I take your point about the provenance (correct word?) of quotes and have found other examples of similarly presented pieces that have different authors attributed to them. Even The Bible is quoted as written by G-d, but Margaret Attwood uses Grace Marks and others in Alias Grace, to make the point that men wrote the words and pruned some of the stuff that, those men didn't approve of.
So as in most writing and research, we find once again that title belongs to one, some, few or even many.
Finding a primary source is the goal of all research in these matters and as you've pointed out, there are claims for this piece.
For my own part, I am happy to leave ownership to whoever can claim it, whilst enjoying the sentiment and thought provoking essence of the words.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
- linda_lakeside
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- tom.d.stiller
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Oh Byron, Lord of so many books I'd love to have the chance to browse, I never cared much for the provenance (Yes Linda, that's the right spelling, but we all mis-spell sometimes: I just say "Truffeau!") of words ringing true. But, knowing the intricacies of translating French to English, I wanted to read Apollinaire's original words - and those might not exist.
On the other hand - I believe we should give the Caesar what is the Caesar's, and, consequently - as we aren't royalists - the Common Christopher Logue what's his.
Your quotation, of course, my friend, was to the point, in this as well as in any other thread.
Cheers
tom
On the other hand - I believe we should give the Caesar what is the Caesar's, and, consequently - as we aren't royalists - the Common Christopher Logue what's his.
Your quotation, of course, my friend, was to the point, in this as well as in any other thread.
Cheers
tom
- Byron
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- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
Re: I think continually....
Yes, yes, yes.............
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.