Dream: The Old Dude with Big Side-Whiskers – On Being Called Honey by a Waitress Named Kitty. Poems by RW Haynes.

Dream: The Old Dude with Big Side-Whiskers                     On Being Called Honey by a Waitress Named Kitty
                                                                                                  
Yes, Old Ibsen was indeed a sight,                                            I’ll have the Boot Hill burger, I believe, 
Appearing in a dim-lit dream where I                                       As the young cowboy said, and some fries…
Lay, probably snoring, on an anxious night,                             Where does a man end up when he dies?
His whispery voice, a dagger-scraping sigh,                             When I used to keep a card up my sleeve
Disdainful but intent, urgent to be heard,                                   I knew it was safe with my back to the door
Said, “Listen, cracker, once I had it all                                      And a cup of hot coffee, my hair slicked back,
From my Muses, and then onstage my word                             And pieces of silver in a small leather sack,
Was their law as surely as avalanches fall.                                But now you can’t trust nothing any more.
At dinner my fellow Norwegians would rise                            There used to be a train that ran each day
When I appeared, and the Queen gave to me                            Through here, and then you could get away  
As Royal Playwright a Royal Garden key,                                From everything. You could go or stay,
And I prospered mightily in all men’s eyes.                              As the spirit rolled the dice and smiled,
But I tell you now, and listen well to me,                                  Time to go, sometimes time to play,
Your work is diminished by prosperity.                                     Happy as a hog and careless as a child.


The wisdom we seek in optimistic dreams                                You don’t want to hear an old man’s lies,
Moves through life, when captured, delusive,                           But everything else he has has dried,
Though the silence biding Mrs. Alving’s screams                     And his friends and all of his dogs have died,
Defies the mutable, the shifty and elusive.                                And there’s not much fire burning in his eyes,
Old age calls for a mature intensity                                           And you’ll never know how hard the man has lied
Reaching always toward ghostly shades                                    Or how many shots he took long ago                  
Hovering maliciously in dark immensity,                                  That no one remembers or ever will know.
Clutching their rust-rotten, blood-rusted blades.                       Hell, it don’t matter now what all he tried,
Wake up, forget the clowns and their clamor,                            But when you call him honey, honey, just try
Turn to my Muses, the grim inspiration                                     To give him a hard look straight in the eye                                  
Of rough-edged insight, of ax and of hammer,                          To stir up them ashes he’s cherishing inside,
The poet’s kind of living, the deadly vocation.                          And the angels will sing for you, loud and sweet,
If I had my work to do again, it’s true,                                       And heaven’s gates will shake and open wide
I’d write my work in blood, and so should you.”                       When you bring sacrifice for him to eat.





R. W. Haynes has taught literature at Texas A&M International University since 1992. His recent interests include the early British sonnet, and he is completing a second book on the Texas playwright and screenwriter Horton Foote (1916-2009). In his poetry, Haynes seeks to celebrate life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness without sounding any more dissonant notes than he has to. In fiction, he works toward grasping that part of the past which made its mark on his generation. He enjoys teaching drama, especially the Greeks, Ibsen, and Shakespeare, and he devoutly hopes for a stunning literary Renaissance in South Texas.

Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times his publications include All the Babble of the Souk and Cartoon Molecules collected poems and Key of Mist the recently published Tesserae translations from Spanish poets Guadalupe Grande and Carmen Crespo visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

Eternity Shivers with a Coldness Translated from José Antonio Pamies’ “Toda la eternidad tiembla de frío” by Robin Ouzman Hislop

  

Toda la eternidad tiembla de frío,

es un plan muerto antes de nacer,

porque la cáscara nutre el vacío

ahondando en el alma de las cosas.

*

Yo sé que tú no crees en lo baldío

de la flor siniestra sobre el café,

la tarde es para ti como un estío

abrasado de calor contra las rosas.

*

Traerá Mayo su trasnochado azul,

contemplarás bajo el color nevado

tallos ocres de cuando fuiste oro.

*

Raíz negra rugiendo en el baúl,

solar sin tregua, sexo desmayado

donde el calor despierta sueños de otro

*

José Antonio Pamies (España)

 *

Eternity shivers with a coldness

from a plan dead before it is born

because the rind which feeds the emptiness

deepens in concerns of the soul its form.

*

But you dont believe in the sinister

wasteland of this coffees wild flowers,

evening for you is seen as a summer,

a scorching heat burning against roses.

*

May will yet come in her outmoded blue,

you will watch beneath a snowy colour

before when you were gold, stems of ochre.

*

Black roots twisted in the wooden trunk scream

on a relentless ground of sex fainting

where the heat awakens anothers dream.

*

Translated from José Antonio PamiesToda la    eternidad tiembla de frío by Robin  Ouzman Hislop

 

jose pamies

José Antonio Pamies (Alicante, 1981) Finalista del III Premio internacional de poesía 
Andrés Salom 2005 y del II Premio de la editorial poesia Eres Tu 2010 con Las Ruinas 
de la Aurora. Ha publicado Campos de hielo (Babilonia, Pliegos de la palabra nº 3, 2012) 
y Afonías (finalista del XXVI Premio Gerardo Diego de Poesía), así como poemas en revistas 
y numerosas antologías. Reside en Madrid, donde realiza estudia Teoría de la Literatura y 
Literatura Comparada.


 José Antonio Pamies (Alicante, 1981) His early poetry collection Las Ruinas de la Aurora was a runner up at the III Andres Salom International Poetry Award in 2005 and the II poesia Eres Tu Publisher Award in 2010. He has published Campos de hielo (Babilonia, Pliegos de la palabra nº 3) and Afonías a runner up at the XXVI Gerardo Diego Poetry Award. He currently lives in Madrid, pursuing studies in Theory of Literature and Comparative Literature.

 

This sonnet together with its translation appeared in The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Exciting new sonnet anthology edited by Richard Vallance now available on Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1lIL0jF BN ID: 2940148833628 Publisher: FriesenPress Publication date: 11/20/2013 Sold by: Barnes & Noble

 

WIN_20140415_213447

 

Robin Ouzman Hislop (UK) Co-editor of the 12 year running on line monthly poetry journal Poetry Life and Times. (See its Wikipedia entry at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_Life_and_Times). He has made many appearances over the last years in the quarterly journals Canadian Zen Haiku, including In the Spotlight Winter 2010 & Sonnetto Poesia. Previously published in international magazines, recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review, Appalachian University N Carolina, Post Hoc installed at Bank Street Arts Centre, Sheffield (UK), Uroborus Journal, 2011-2012 (Sheffield, UK), The Poetic Bond II & 111, available at http://www.thepoeticbond.com and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes a recently published Anthology of Sonnets: http://bit.ly/1lIL0jF. He has recently completed a volume of poetry, The World at Large, for future publication. He is currently resident in Spain engaged in poetry translation projects.robin@artvilla.com and you can also visit Face Book site at www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The War Poet. Poem. Jeff Green

 

He ripped away the patriotic fog

by painting scenes of brutal blood and gore,

of tedium and unrelenting slog

to show the world the horrors of the war.

He learned from all the greatest of the age.

Sassoon would coax from him his finest art:

the voice that told a generation’s rage,

with passions stolen from a broken heart.

When all was won and death still greater waste,

he gave his life as millions had before.

The news gave peace a lasting bitter taste,

and emphasised the dreadful final score.

There is no sweet and fitting way to die;

his verses showed the world that greatest lie.

 

Jeff Green, who lives in Harrow, UK. is by training and inclination a scientist, is also a long-time lover of words. Of himself, he says, “I started writing poetry for others when I included brief rhymes in Christmas cards for a group of lovely young ladies about five years ago, but had always played with the sound of words for my own amusement. The girls all wanted to read each others verses and asked for more, one of them encouraged me to find a wider audience, and after much nagging I did so. Writing regularly lead me to understand what I really like in poetry, and that is how I got here!”  www. allpoetry.com/cricketjeff

This sonnet is pre-published with the permission of the Editor-in-chief from:Richard Vallance, editor-in-chief. The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire. Friesen Presse, Victoria, B.C., Canada. © 2013. approx. 240 pp. ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-4602-1700-9 Price: $28.00 Paperback: 978-1-4602-1701-6 Price: $18.00 e-Book: 978-1-4602-1702-3 Price: TBA

300 sonnets & ghazals in English, French, Spanish, German, Chinese & Persian. Selected sonnets in this anthology are to be pre-published by our permission in Poetry Life & Times (UK) which has exclusive sole rights prior to the publication of the anthology itself. Readers may also contact Richard Vallance, Editor-in-Chief, at: vallance22@gmx.com for further information.http://vallance22.hpage.com/

***

editor@artvilla.com
robin@artvilla.com

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W.S.Sonnet 53.French Translation Richard Vallance

Tiré de = from:The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: 
Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium 
= Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : 
Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire.
Victoria, British Columbia: Friesen Press, © 2013 / 

Chapitre 2 : sonnets en français

Sonnet 53

daprès le Sonnet LIII (53) de William Shakespeare

Alexandrin

Laquelle serait lessentielle à te définir,
Des ténèbres innombrables qui te poursuivent ?
Parmi ces pénombres qui veulent se réunir
À toi, à qui est la mine plus inexpressive ?
Décrire Adonis, et son image dans la glace
Veut te contrefaire aussi bien quil taffaiblit ;
Les beaux-arts, auraient-ils, Hélène, autant de grâce,
Que la frise hellénique, elle qui tembellit ?
Lon voit au beau printemps sépanouir lannée,
Dont la foison est trop exquise et un atout,
Mais elle a moins dabondance que ta Beauté ;
Te voilà donc bénie et reconnue partout.
   Quelle soit prévisible, la grâce tappartient,
   Et la constance imprévisible aussi bien.

Richard Vallance

Le Sonnet 53 de Richard Vallance a été publié dans le vol. 7, numéro 3, été 2007, page 18 de Sonnetto Poesia ISSN1705-4524= was previously published in Sonnetto Poesia ISSN 1705-4524.Vol. 7 No. 3 summer 2007, page 18

Dit-il : Cette nouvelle version du sonnet que jai composé en français ne constitue 
pas du tout une simple traduction.  Cest en effet ma création originale du sonnet 53 
de William Shakespeare (1564-1616).  My version of  William Shakespeare's Sonnet 
53 is simply not to be construed as a running translation of the original. It is in fact 
my own original creation.

Sonnet LIII 

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helens cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring and foison of the year;
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
   In all external grace you have some part,
   But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Commentaires sur la recréation du sonnet 53 de William Shakespeare par Richard Vallance = 

Comments on Richard Vallances recreation of William Shakespeares Sonnet 53 into French:

Ta recréation du sonnet de Shakespeare, fort réussie, me touche dautant plus que... 
passim...  [j]e viens de comparer dun peu plus près ton sonnet 53 avec loriginal...
 passim... et les traductions dHenri Thomas et Armel Guerne. Si tu téloignes parfois 
délibérément de la lettre, tu saisis lesprit des Sonnets de Shakespeare, en particulier 
la musicalité et les antithèses, dont celle de la chute. (Thierry Guinhut, France.) 
http://www.thierry-guinhut-litteratures.com/)

Translated: Your recreation of Shakespeares sonnet, a success in itself, affects me all 
the more when I compare it with the translations of Henri Thomas and Armel Guerne.  
If you occasionally stray from the letter, you never stray from the spirit of Shakespeares 
sonnets.  Your French faithfully reflects the  musicality, the play on antithesis and the 
surprising twist of his rhyming couplet.

Had Richard Vallance only carried the images of Sonnet 53 safely across the pond to lay 
them down in new  Alexandrine accommodations, his achievement would have been notable; 
but he has done something rarer... by reminding us of the Sonnet’s intentions.  He has given 
us a love poem: one that no Dark Lady would easily resist.  (Becca Menon, Becca Books, NYC)

I read your translation/adaptation of sonnet 53 and enjoyed it  a strange effect of translations 
is sometimes one understands an aspect of the original better in the translation; Shakespeares 
already moderately remote from us, that is our use of the English. So your translation brings 
several aspects of the original to light which are perhaps a bit opaque in the original.  
(Howard Giskin, Department of Modern and Classical Languages, University of  Connecticut, Storrs)

Vraiment la traduction du sonnet 53 de W.S. est excellent. Je peux te dire qu’en français ça coule avec une douceur infinie. C’est de toute beauté. Gilles Le Chasseur (Rimouski, Québec, Canada)

Translated: Your translation of W.S.'s Sonnet 53 is excellent.  I can honestly say
 that it flows with infinite grace in French. It is a thing of beauty.

We urge readers of these sonnets in Poetry Life & Times pre-published 
from The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendes. 
Victoria, B.C., Canada, Friesen Press, © June 2013  300 sonnets in English, 
French, German, Chinese & Farsi, http://vallance22.hpage.com/, to visit the
site. Readers may also contact Richard  Vallance, Editor-in-Chief, at:
vallance22@gmx.com for further information. 

			

The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets. Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets. Poetry. Richard Vallance.

Phoenix  Book Image

The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium
= Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire.
Vallance, Richard, Ed-in-Chief. Victoria, British Columbia: Friesen Press, ©
 
Some 300 sonnets and ghazals in English,
French, Spanish, German and Farsi published at
Friesen Press, and now available.
 
 
Friesen Press will do all the marketing and distribution.
 
To be available
in major bookstores & through all major online order channels
such as Amazon.com, Alibris.com,
Smithsbook's, Ebay and Barnes & Noble:
For more information on the anthology, please visit our site.
The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres