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Awesome non-spoilery behind the scenes clip with the House cast on Fox.com. I love them!!!! Also I want to squish HL and pinch OE's cheek.♥♥♥
Apr. 3rd, 2009
This is not my national poetry month, but I'm totally going to steal it and make it mine because *everyone* should have a national poetry month.
We'll go no more a-roving
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.
- Byron
I recite this to myself every now and then when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic and melancholy. It might be a poem about love, but it will always be poem about friends and growing up to me, 'So, we'll go no more a-roving...'
We'll go no more a-roving
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.
- Byron
I recite this to myself every now and then when I'm feeling particularly nostalgic and melancholy. It might be a poem about love, but it will always be poem about friends and growing up to me, 'So, we'll go no more a-roving...'
banalata sen
Apr. 3rd, 2009 08:44 pmBanalata Sen
For thousands of years I roamed the paths of this earth,
From waters round Ceylon in dead of night to Malayan seas.
Much have I wandered. I was there in the grey world of Asoka
And Bimbisara, pressed on through darkness to the city of Vidarbha.
I am a weary heart surrounded by life's frothy ocean.
To me she gave a moment's peace - Banalata Sen from Natore.
Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa,
Her face, the craftsmanship of Sravasti. As the helmsman,
His rudder broken, far out upon the sea adrift,
Sees the grass-green land of a cinnamon isle, just so
Through darkness I saw her. Said she, 'Where have you been so long?'
And raised her bird's nest-like eyes - Banalata Sen from Natore.
At day's end, like hush of dew
Comes evening. A hawk wipes the scent of sunlight from its wings.
When earth's colors fade and some pale design is sketched,
Then glimmering fireflies paint in the story.
All birds come home, all rivers, all of this life's tasks finished.
Only darkness remains, as I sit there face to face with Banalata Sen.
- Jibanananda Das (translated into English by Clinton B. Seely)
Jibananda Das is quite possibly one of my favouritest poets *ever*, and Banalata Sen is arguably his most famous (and certainly most translated poem). This is a good translation, despite the occasional shudderworthy lines ('Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa' is *not* an adequate translation for 'Chul taar kobekar ondhokaar Bidishar nisha'; god, that line gives me goosebumps).
For thousands of years I roamed the paths of this earth,
From waters round Ceylon in dead of night to Malayan seas.
Much have I wandered. I was there in the grey world of Asoka
And Bimbisara, pressed on through darkness to the city of Vidarbha.
I am a weary heart surrounded by life's frothy ocean.
To me she gave a moment's peace - Banalata Sen from Natore.
Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa,
Her face, the craftsmanship of Sravasti. As the helmsman,
His rudder broken, far out upon the sea adrift,
Sees the grass-green land of a cinnamon isle, just so
Through darkness I saw her. Said she, 'Where have you been so long?'
And raised her bird's nest-like eyes - Banalata Sen from Natore.
At day's end, like hush of dew
Comes evening. A hawk wipes the scent of sunlight from its wings.
When earth's colors fade and some pale design is sketched,
Then glimmering fireflies paint in the story.
All birds come home, all rivers, all of this life's tasks finished.
Only darkness remains, as I sit there face to face with Banalata Sen.
- Jibanananda Das (translated into English by Clinton B. Seely)
Jibananda Das is quite possibly one of my favouritest poets *ever*, and Banalata Sen is arguably his most famous (and certainly most translated poem). This is a good translation, despite the occasional shudderworthy lines ('Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa' is *not* an adequate translation for 'Chul taar kobekar ondhokaar Bidishar nisha'; god, that line gives me goosebumps).