Poem Selection

Here are the two poems I have chosen. Both are about love, and yet how different. The firts is serious and reflective, while the other is almost adolescent. Still, they are about love. Aren't they, after all, the same?

Love Is A Mighty Power (Thomas á Kempis)

Love is a mighty power, a great and complete good.

Love alone lightens every burden, and makes rough places smooth.

It bears every hardship as though it were nothing, and renders all bitterness sweet and acceptable.

Nothing is sweeter than love,

Nothing stronger,

Nothing higher,

Nothing wider,

Nothing more pleasant,

Nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth;

for love is born of God.

Love flies, runs and leaps for joy.

It is free and unrestrained.

Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds.

Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil,

attempts things beyond its strength.

Love sees nothing as impossible,

for it feels able to achieve all things.

It is strange and effective,

while those who lack love faint and fail.

Love is not fickle and sentimental,

nor is it intent on vanities.

Like a living flame and a burning torch,

it surges upward and surely surmounts every obstacle.

Tell Me, My Heart, if This Be Love (George Lyttelton)

WHEN Delia on the plain appears,

Awed by a thousand tender fears

I would approach, but dare not move:

Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

Whene'er she speaks, my ravish'd ear

No other voice than hers can hear,

No other wit but hers approve:

Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

If she some other youth commend,

Though I was once his fondest friend,

His instant enemy I prove:

Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

When she is absent, I no more

Delight in all that pleased before

The clearest spring, or shadiest grove:

Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

When fond of power, of beauty vain,

Her nets she spread for every swain,

I strove to hate, but vainly strove:

Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

My Poem Anthology

Never done before by me...I really don't know what has come out of this... Anyway, here they are!

“I am from” Poem

I am from where green meets blue
I am daughter of a vast starry sky
I love the summer breeze among the singing trees
I hate the pouring rain that freezes my heart
I believe in fertile grounds and endless roads
I take courage on my people’s warmth
I dream of the deep dark sea
I am from where green meets blue.



List poem

The most infinite warmth,
The happiest moments,
The safest place,
The strongest bond.
My refuge, my shelter, my port.
That is my home,
Where I always return.




Image poem

The bell rings, and a succession of little feet clatter along the corridor.
High voices and sharp cries mix with clear laughter as candy wraps fly about.
Tiny white figures absorb the sunlight for a moment, while their huge dark shadows magically appear on the tall walls.
Then the bell rings again, and all the games stop. The little feet clatter back to the classroom.
And the playground is left alone.

Echo

Last week we had to prepare a presentation about a given text for WE III. Noelia, Carla and I (and many others) chose this beautiful poem by Christina Rossetti, which I would like to share now. Enjoy...See you all! Flor

Echo

Come to me in the silence of the night;

Come in the speaking silence of a dream;

Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright

As sunlight on a stream;

Come back in tears,

O memory, hope and love of finished years.

O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter-sweet,

Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,

Where souls brim-full of love abide and meet;

Where thirsting longing eyes

Watch the slow door

That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live

My very life again though cold in death;

Come back to me in dreams, that I may give

Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:

Speak low, lean low,

As long ago, my love, how long ago.

The Curse

Not often as a reader I come across a story like this one by Arthur Clarke. His excellent choice of words has allowed him to elaborate an incredibly powerful image of desolation and destruction in only a few paragraphs. Truly, no one can finish reading those two pages without feeling a heavy heart.
Still, among the darkness and nothingness of the tale, there is a small ray of hope. Despite the fact that the world seems to have come to an end, its death may not last forever. The final element appearing here is water, which is not completely efficacious for total annihilation. Moreover, it is a source of life. The town is reduced to ruins by the blast, but as it slowly floods, its remains are somewhat sheltered by the swirling waters of the Avon.
Perhaps one day when the time comes they will see daylight again. Cleansed and renewed after being washed by purifying water, maybe millennia later, the earth will hold life again; and the ones who will have such new life will not aim so eagerly towards its destruction.
And deep beneath, intact, the words of the Bard, the symbol of everlasting literature, of what is good and beautiful, will be there to witness it.

Tales in the sand

Take my hand,

we're off to Never-Neverland

(Metallica- "Enter Sandman")

We often believe that love is the strongest feeling. It has been said so in stories, in poems, in songs… Love is eternal, it is the most precious gift that has been given to humans, it can overcome the greatest odds, and can be even stronger than death.
But in this tale things seem to be different. Though the characters love intensely, there are other feelings which appear to be more powerful.
Guilt is one, and so is duty. Queen Nada is deeply in love, but her conscience will not allow her to live that love freely. After her city is destroyed, she throws herself from the mountain top without hesitation. As a ruler, she knows it is her duty to act always for her people’s sake, and having seen the tragedy that followed her first night with the Dream Lord, she decides to die to prevent something like it from happening again. “Mortals do not marry the endless, my love” she says. So be it. This noble queen refuses him again and again, even after her death, to avoid harming others.
Pride also seems to overcome love in this tale. Kai’ckul loves Nada, there is no doubt about that. “I am no mortal man, and I love you as no mortal man could love” he tells her. But would a mortal man have condemned her? We are told that the Dream Lord is a proud one. But his pride seems to have no limits, as his desire to punish her is greater than his love. He does not allow her to walk freely into the realm of death, but he asks her over and over again to be his bride. Nada has already assured that she cannot be so, and asks him to stop, because if she refuses him one more time he will condemn her. And Kai’ckul asks again. He may be so desperate that he wants to try one last time to keep her, but chances are he is also arrogant. Why then, doesn’t he let her die in true peace? It might be hard to forget her, but it is a thousand times better than condemning her.
Nevertheless, this is a love story. As it was said before, love here is overcome by seemingly stronger feelings, but it is still present in every step the characters make. It may be a proud love, or a sorrowful one, or one full of guilt. It may be an impossible love indeed. But it is possible that what we believe is true. It is eternal. In spite of everything, Nada and Kai’ckul will love each other forever.

Boule de Suif

This story by Guy de Maupassant depicts in a terribly vivid way the extreme cruelty which humans are able to display, especially when it comes together with a great deal of hypocrisy and a feeling of moral superiority.
The characters in this story regard themselves as legitimate in every possible way; respectable and behaving according to the moral codes of their society and social class.
So righteous they think they are that they can look down on Boule de Suif without the slightest feeling of pity or understanding. Being a courtesan as she is, all she deserves is criticism and contempt; “for legitimised love always despises its easygoing brother”.
The faults of the other passengers in the carriage can be concealed by their social position. It does not matter that Loiseau is a rascal who has made a fortune through cheating; it does not matter that Madame Carre-Lamadon has a most peculiar inclination for young and handsome soldiers; it is not important whether Comte de Breville married an unknown woman in mysterious circumstances. It is not even important that they are all fleeing from Rouen merely because the situation is not convenient for their economic welfare. What is essential for these hypocrites is that they are right to people’s eyes, while Boule de Suif is not. She may be an ardent patriot; she is the only one escaping to save her life after demonstrating her indignation, but still, only a courtesan, which degrades her to an object status.
The way in which everybody treats Boule the Suif as an object is evident from the beginning of the journey and is continued during the whole story. They avoid talking to her during the first part of the trip, but when they are all starving, and she offers them her food, they accept more than willingly, and seem to be polite to her. Yet, when they see that they will not leave the inn unless the girl consents in surrendering to the Prussian, the idea of her as “common property” goes back to their minds. Without any consideration to her feelings and wishes, everybody plots against her, thinking that, after all, she has no right to refuse. They lie openly, and assure her that she has in her hands the possibility of saving them, something they would be forever grateful for. And then is when human cruelty is fully shown. As they leave, everybody returns to their original attitude, selfishness, scorn and contempt, making very clear that Boule the Suif should feel ashamed for what she considered was a sacrifice.This blatant hypocrisy is too much for her to bear, so she weeps. But however indignant and furious she may feel, it will not affect the rest. They have lived so far behind their masks of morality and righteousness, and they will wear them for ever.

My Literary Paper

Hi mates! Here is the first part of our paper (introduction and thesis paragraph); all trimmed and (hopefully) improved after the first correcting session. I'll be waiting for your feedback! Hugs

DRACULA: THE NOVEL AND DRACULA: THE FILM
Love and redemption, or evil for its own sake?

Horror literature reached new heights and dimensions when the Irish Bram Stoker wrote his greatest contribution to it: his masterpiece “Dracula”, published in 1897. This novel, in which Stoker synthesised numerous myths about vampirism and afterlife from the Europe of old and of his time, has become a legend, delightful and at the same time terrifying, which stills enthrals and shocks readers all over the world as it has done for over 100 years; and which has been adapted for the screen on several occasions. However, the majority of these films have presented a version of the story which has been remarkably altered in many respects ; turning Dracula from a black-hearted demon into a tormented man in love. For the sake of simplicity, we will work with only one film in this paper, Dracula (1992), by F. Ford Coppola, which is one of the freest versions.

The purpose of this paper is to analyse the possible reasons for the changes in the plot. Why did the filmmaker feel it was necessary to alter a story which in its original form has become one of the best-known works of literature? What could he have considered unsatisfactory or missing in the novel, that he wished to add in his film? We will focus on three possible reasons: The attraction that a love story may exert on the audience; the will to exploit the sexual implications which could be found in a vampires’ tale; and the will to present a more humane Dracula whose actions are justified and whose end is softened.