What does that mean?
— Amity
Here's some "ordinary language semantics" for you: follow the links in the post to which your quote of mine refers for the context (i.e. how I use "real" when discussing ontology). — 180 Proof

OK. You don't need to be smart-arse-ish. The links took me to another thread on the subject of 'reality' and your responses, italicised below:
'What is your understanding of 'reality' ?
https://thephilosophyforum.com/discussion/comment/554443

Okay, how many ways can we define reality?
— Athena
As many ways as we can possibly map the territory or as many different games of chess we can possibly play. Maybe as many as the number of angels which can dance on a pinhead. 'Definitions' are like that mostly.

What about reality matters and why?
This question, like asking every other, presupposes it. Reality is ineluctable and, therefore, discourse/cognition–invariant. Thus, it's the ur-standard, or fundamental ruler, against which all ideas and concepts, knowledge and lives are measured (i.e. enabled-constrained, tested).

How can we be sure we know reality?
As Witty might say 'because we lack sufficient grounds to doubt reality' (as opposed to abundant grounds to doubt fictions).

Like, might we live differently if we think the Jews must rebuild their temple for Jesus to return and then we will be given a new planet, or if we think our planet is finite and that no religious explanations explain our reality?

Again: reality is the ineluctable, subject / consensus–invariant, measure that tests whether "what we think" and "how we live accordingly" are maladaptive (more harmful than helpful) or adaptive (more helpful than harmful), etc.

[my bolds]

How does this 'measure' test how we think and how we live other than via words related to observation? That is the reality in which we live.

Talking about 'blathers' that discussion lasted for 13 pages, ending with another point of view:

I think reality is a form of participatory realism. We exist to manifest and give meaning to the universe's collective dream that requires consistency because it is shared. Detailed proof to follow or not. — Cheshire

I preferred the simple, straightforward:

Reality is that which does not require "faith" and is the case regardless of what we believe. — 180 Proof

Nice talking with ya', really.
Later...

So I use "real" to indicate some X is ineluctable, subject-invariant and/or which exceeds-our-categories. — 180 Proof

What does that mean?

I think it's best to lay our cards on the table showing how we intend to use problematic (i.e. specialized) terms in order to make ourselves better understood. — 180 Proof

Indeed. This would have been a good start. Instead of which a host of definitions were laid out:

Having objective independent existence
Having existence independent of mind
Occurring or existing in actuality
Existing in fact and not imaginary
Of or relating to practical or everyday concerns or activities — T Clark

Then it was narrowed down to:

I’ll define “reality” as the state of being real. — T Clark

How helpful was this? The state of being human and real includes language use. So, I object to:

All the "ordinary language semantics" blather these last several pages seems to me besides the point raised in the OP. — 180 Proof

What was the point raised in the OP?

My position - I don’t think the idea of “real” has any meaning except in relation to the everyday world at human scale — T Clark

How is talking about ordinary human language not relevant to discussing the idea of 'real'?
What am I missing?

Again, Tom seems to state more clearly my question:

That seems to be the key point for me here. The application of words where they fail us, where they no longer have utility. And Midgley's notion of 'plumbing' seems to take a similar approach to conceptual schemes which are pushed beyond their limits and create confusion — Tom Storm

Again, thanks for all the pointers. Will definitely look later. I do love this discussion :love:

Eliot provided his own notes, which are not always published in full text online versions but here they are:

https://wasteland.windingway.org/endnotes

Unfortunately the notes themselves assume a knowledge of Italian, German and Latin. So for what it's worth. — Cuthbert

Good find.
Here's something else I haven't yet had time to read:
https://poemanalysis.com/t-s-eliot/the-waste-land/

Have you changed your thinking in any way about 'real' as a result of this thread?
— Tom Storm

What a good question. No fair. I don't think it so much changed my thinking as made it clearer what I actually think. It tested my ideas by making me use them in different contexts. I started out with a fairly limited claim - that what we mean by "real" and "reality" only has meaning in relation to everyday human experience. I think that's a metaphysical position, so I wasn't looking to see if it was right, but if it is useful. I gained confidence that it is.

That's how I use a lot of the discussions I start. It's like putting a canoe I just made in the water to see if it leaks. No, I don't make canoes. But I do make metaphors. — T Clark

Tom's question cuts to the chase.
Much better than my previous question as to where the thread was leading.

I doubt that TC's mind is that amenable to change, even if it might look that way. He takes a firm stance.
The canoe cannot and will not sink.

It is not unusual that you and I don't see eye to eye on this type of issue. I don't see how your or Austin's formulations contribute to my understanding. Let's leave it at that. — T Clark

In general, it seems previous 'hostile' exchanges serve to trigger some kind of mental block.
Stubbornness sets in.

As I noted when you first brought this up earlier in the thread, I don't think it necessarily contradicts what I've written. It think it deals with a different set of issues related to real and reality. — T Clark

The title: 'What does 'real' mean?' is broad; the OP offered different definitions.
No wonder different sets of issues were raised; all worthwhile and relevant even if summarily dismissed.

But, again, what of it? The testing of own ideas in discussion is fine but sometimes it is really about confirming what you already feel you 'know'.
The reality of what happens in so many threads...is that posters don't change their position.
Even if others offer alternative views, dogmatism can persist even as people think they are open.
Ears are closed to real listening.

C'est la vie.

I started out using Kindle to look up references and foreign phrases, but I quit after a couple of stanzas. I figured I would just plow through without trying too hard. If I read it again I'll dig in more. — T Clark

I agree with a first reading, of anything, simply to enjoy the overall sense and experience; an intuitive guessing at the meaning of the words without worrying if you 'get it'.
It's a useful approach when learning a foreign language and poetry can be a bit like that.

A second reading allows you to pause at words; to discover and reflect on their meaning.

And I now appreciate that in poetry, listening can enhance this process of learning...what's it all about...

YouTube has some good recordings of people like Alec Guinness reading it out. For me it helped get into the rhythm of Eliot. — Tom Storm

:smile: :cool:
Absolutely brilliant, thanks! His voice clear, resounding, rich and unique. Exactly what I was looking for.
Much better than any Librivox reading. Why wouldn't it be? It's Sir Alec Guinness aka Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Thanks. I'll take a look. — T Clark

I remember you enjoyed him as le Carré's George Smiley in 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy'.
His interpretation brings the poem to life; listening to the rhythm increased my appreciation :100: :sparkle:

The Waste Land (TS Eliot) read by Alec Guinness
( includes times for each of the 5 parts)

I'm not sure with what? — Dawnstorm

To clarify: I meant the German translation of the poem.

[...] I don't feel confident to say much here. — Dawnstorm

Wow. Thank you.
You've written more than I hoped for and more than I can understand... about the key changes.
I will have to look again tomorrow. Tired now.

Hopefully there'll be folks who have jazz and/or classical as their primary interest. — ThinkOfOne

Jazz and/or classical music I listen to and appreciate when I'm in a certain mood or frame of mind.

The reason I've popped in. I've been listening to Liszt and I'd be grateful if anyone could answer my question below:
Liszt, La tombe et la rose, S. 285 (1844) - with score and subtitles



From the 'Poem meaning' thread: https://thephilosophyforum.com/discussion/13562/poem-meaning/latest/comment

Next, "phrase" is also a word used in music theory: a phrase is built from lower level stuff, too, like, say, motifs, but I'm not that knowledgable here. In any case, if you riff of this term, you might consider a phrase a compositional unit that somehow completes a rhythm. A phrase might co-incide with a line, with half a line, with a couplet... depending on the poem. You can then compare the rhythmic units with units of meaning: Do they co-incide? Do they overlap? And so on.
— Dawnstorm

I'd be interested to hear how well the music, song and singer interpret the poem and the phrasing.
Any ideas? — Amity

Your thoughts would be appreciated :sparkle:

I would like to hear this poem rather than just read it. — Amity

Well, why not listen to Liszt!
Liszt, La tombe et la rose, S. 285 (1844) - with score and subtitles


As well as English subtitles, there's a German translation in the score.
Calling @Dawnstorm - would you agree?
It also reminds me of your:

Next, "phrase" is also a word used in music theory: a phrase is built from lower level stuff, too, like, say, motifs, but I'm not that knowledgable here. In any case, if you riff of this term, you might consider a phrase a compositional unit that somehow completes a rhythm. A phrase might co-incide with a line, with half a line, with a couplet... depending on the poem. You can then compare the rhythmic units with units of meaning: Do they co-incide? Do they overlap? And so on. — Dawnstorm

I'd be interested to hear how well the music, song and singer interpret the poem and the phrasing.
Any ideas?

Yes, I feel the same thing. I keep thinking something really bad is going to happen that will affect the whole world. — T Clark

This feeling of dread and anxiety is perfectly natural and understandable. It's one of the reasons I have been attracted to this thread; a most welcome distraction from the overwhelming feeling that things just keep getting worse...

Not sure that anxiety is a place I want to dwell, but perhaps it is worth exploring poems with this theme:

'Anxiety can affect us in different ways, so it should come as little surprise that poets have represented, expressed, and depicted anxiety and anxious states in a myriad fashions.
In the following pick of the best poems about suffering from anxiety, we find modernists using the dramatic monologue form to give voice to the outsider’s fear of social interaction and political poets writing about anxiety over the future.'

https://interestingliterature.com/2021/10/best-poems-about-anxiety/

I will take time to read your wonderful post later. Thank you so much :flower:
Also, this:

She is great at putting loose conversational speech into strict traditional verse form - here's another one, rules mentioned again, rules of prosody:

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/1031860-nine-line-triolet-here-s-a-fine-mess-we-got-ourselves-into — Cuthbert

Thanks again for all the time and effort you are putting into this discussion :100: :up:

Sorry, while this pursuit is noble, I found them really hard to read is all. The Ukrainian war being so... now. And USians cheering on the whole affair like it's a football match... it's just hard for me to comment on stuff like that. (there's a reason I avoid the Ukraine thread) — Moliere

Thanks for your response.
The 'pursuit' is nothing more than giving examples of other traditions and outlooks. There is nothing particularly 'noble' about it. I think it is worth looking at other contexts and circumstances other than those we find 'comfortable'.

I'm glad you attempted a read and appreciate you sharing your thoughts. I understand.
This discussion has helped in articulating how poetry makes us feel; what meaning we can find, if any.
All good :flower:

The translator made some decisions that seem odd to me. — T Clark

Thanks. You've paid more attention to the poem than I did. It's made me look again and I have still more to see...

I wondered about the translator and if there were any notes to explain the choices made.
I found this translator, without explanatory notes: Florence Earle Coates
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Poems_(Coates_1916)/Volume_II/The_Tomb_Said_to_the_Rose

THE TOMB SAID TO THE ROSE
AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO

THE tomb said to the rose:
—"With the tears thy leaves enclose,
What makest thou, love's flower?"
The rose said to the tomb:
—"Tell me of all those whom
Death gives into thy power!"

The rose said:—"Tomb, 't is strange,
But these tears of love I change
Into perfumes amber sweet."
The tomb said:—"Plaintive flower,
Of these souls, I make each hour
Angels, for heaven meet!" — Wikisource

***
Another version but unclear who the translator is, possibly Andrew Lang:

The Grave And The Rose

The grave says to the rose:
- Tears with which the dawn waters you
What are you doing, flower of love?
The rose says to the grave:
- What do you do with what falls
In your still open abyss?

The rose says: - Dark tomb,
Of these tears I make in the shadows
A scent of amber and honey.
The tomb says: - Plaintive flower,
Of every soul that comes to me
I make an angel from heaven! — All Poetry

https://allpoetry.com/La-Tombe-Dit--La-Rose-(The-Grave-And-The-Rose)

***
More here:
https://www.lieder.net/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=26009

All in all, I think I like the English version better. Part of that is that I like the way English sounds better than I do French. I like harder, squared off edges better than the rounding over. — T Clark

I enjoy both. For me, the original poem by Victor Hugo is simple and clear-cut; the dialogue easier to follow. It rolls better.
The rose challenges the tomb with a question before giving her response in stanza 2.
The tomb has the final say.
I would like to hear this poem rather than just read it. And delve below the surface...
Life's sensuality v the hard religious aspect. The tug of war...between the natural and supernatural.

La tombe dit à la rose :
- Des pleurs dont l'aube t'arrose
Que fais-tu, fleur des amours ?
La rose dit à la tombe :
- Que fais-tu de ce qui tombe
Dans ton gouffre ouvert toujours ?

La rose dit : - Tombeau sombre,
De ces pleurs je fais dans l'ombre
Un parfum d'ambre et de miel.
La tombe dit : - Fleur plaintive,
De chaque âme qui m'arrive
Je fais un ange du ciel !

I meant the word "terse" is odd — Dawnstorm

Ah yes, I see that now.
Still, I think it's clever. It surprises and makes us think.
'Terse' as applied to humans can be compact, and concise.
Smoothly elegant and polished. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/terse
Like the brown, glossy seeds of the chestnut tree; conkers.
The tree grown to fruition compared to the now 'ugly stump' no longer fertile...perhaps dry and wizened like the writer in the autumn of her life. With questions like: "Is that all there is?"

Thanks for sharing the poem.

A poem, read aloud, is always already an interpretation (though not necessarily consciously so). And I don't think the differences in reading are random. — Dawnstorm

Interesting. I hadn't thought of audio versions as being interpretations.
But you are right. It is why I choose readers with a good voice suited to my ears. Also, those who know and understand the meaning of the story. And what the author is trying to convey to the readers.
They can express the highs and lows, the humour and the tragedy by changing tone, rhythm and so on.

I know for a fact that I wouldn't have read the Italian poem ' Il Lampo' ( The Lightening) in the same way.
Not even in the English version:

una casa apparì sparì d’un tratto;
a house appeared disappeared in the blink of an eye; — Amity

The sound snapped me to attention like a lightning strike.

Meaning tends to influence rhythm as much as the other way round, and different people might emphasise different words. A short Poem:

Danielle Hope, "The Mist at Night" (from The Poet's Voice, 1994):

Perhaps it's the trees, look -
on sentry parade by the lake,
October weighting their branches,
a flotilla of shadows
casting nets over the water.
Perhaps it's the black-out under the trees -
terse chestnuts crack underfoot.
The water-rat snores from dumb roots,
the hawthorn racked red with doubt.

Perhaps it's the mist - wide awake
like a child before Christmas -
or that you think the air weeps
and you don't want it to stop.
So you tug up a tough ugly stump
to wake the lynx that sleeps
just under your heart.
To chase the sleepy lynx out of its lair.
To run wild in the mist in the night. — Dawnstorm

The most striking means of subdivision is the repetition of "Perhaps it's the...", which gives the poem its structure, until the final five lines are introduced with "So," initiating a conclusion [...]
On the semantic level, the "perhaps" refuses to make a definite statement, and the "it" is indeterminate, never telling you what it's talking about. So you have a sort of vague, dreamy feel just from non-sensual words.
The mist from the title doesn't come in until the start of the second stanza. The first stanza gives the setting, but does smuggle in impressionistic figurative language. — Dawnstorm

Thank you. Your post has given me plenty to think about meaning; how it is made and infuenced.
As you and Srap point out, it is shaped by words; their emphasis, rhythm, sound and symbolism.

One way to think about poetry is that it foregrounds elements bedsides the words that shape our understanding of an utterance...Hugh Kenner tells a story about Eliot, that returning to England on the ferry, someone called his attention to the white cliffs of Dover and remarked that they didn't look real, to which Eliot responded, "Oh they're real enough," a sentence Kenner takes to have four different meanings depending on which of its four words you emphasize — Srap Tasmaner

Here are my thoughts, inspired by your post:

The Title: 'The Mist at Night' suggests a myst-erious dream. It sets the stage.

'Perhaps it's the...' - the writer is asking questions as she dreams. There is some confusion; the mist of uncertainty. The psychological mindset tries to understand the dream contents.

Time and place: October. Autumn. Trees whose bare branches overhang a lake. Love the lightness of 'the flotilla of shadows casting nets over the water' contrasting with the gloomy shade at the roots.
As you say:

It's a change in the mood (and the "blackout" foreshadows this, actually). Semantically, the chestnuts being terse fit well with a "crack", but the word is a little odd. The water-rat line feels a little more relaxed again, but not quite as much as the trees-line, and the hawthorn line ends on the plosive of "doubt". — Dawnstorm

I wonder why you say the word 'crack' is odd. Perhaps you are thinking of horse chestnuts in the form of conkers. They would be hard to crack. However, it might be that it is the cracking open of the spiny husks, the protective burrs where the seed comes from. A renewal.
There is a repetition of the '-ack' sound in ''black-out' and 'racked'.

'The water-rat snores' - is this about hibernation? Not in real life they don't. So, this is symbolism.
Apparently, a water rat is associated with the Chinese Zodiac - the Earthly Branch and the midnight hours. Also, linked to personality: smart, deep-thinker with spiritual inclinations. Perhaps.
If it is snoring, then like the writer it sleeps. The inner spirit is dormant, ready for an awakening.

'The hawthorn racked red with doubt' - symbolism of fertility. Hmm. Racks of small, round berries.
Also with protective, small thorns. Doubt about the way forward? To open up or shut down.
Is the writer wracked with physical or mental pain?

Perhaps it's the mist - wide awake
like a child before Christmas -
or that you think the air weeps
and you don't want it to stop. — Dawnstorm

Again, the curiosity. The exciting sense of a gift or a surprise. Rubbing the eyes, half-awake but eager to go, discover, unwrap. Remove the veil...

So you tug up a tough ugly stump
to wake the lynx that sleeps
just under your heart.

There's the vivid imagery, and the mix up of inner and outer world. (For example, if you tug up a tough ugly stump to wake the lynx that sleeps just under your heart, where was the stump, and did it hurt? — Dawnstorm

Yes. If the writer is still dreaming, still in that uncertain place by the lake, she needs to continue.
The ugly stump of a chestnut tree - what would cause it? Disease or withering of the body requiring it to be sawn down? Now lifeless with no spirit.
To release the lynx, to progress means to remove the obstacle and any shame of not being perfect.

The lynx: also known as the 'ghost cat' is associated with secrecy; the need to keep thoughts to yourself.
But also the ability to live freely without fear of worry. They don't have predators where they hang out.
They have a camouflaged coat.

Like the 'water-rat', it sleeps. This time under the heart. Is that silent place the same as 'dumb roots'?
But now, action is being taken; the protective cover and doubt removed:

To chase the sleepy lynx out of its lair.
To run wild in the mist in the night

I end the poem at its slowest (even though semantically, the poem's adressee is supposed to run wild). — Dawnstorm

Yes, there's probably a name for that. To run wild, I think, is her excitement at the prospect of living free without any internal or external constraints. It is a resolution. The calming of doubt.

The transition from a deadened and dispirited body to a renewed life and spirit. Freedom!!
To follow the dream...

***
Your thoughts...anyone?

Again, do you have a source for your claim about 'modern poets' - who are they and where do they assert that 'formalities are not necessary to convey meaning?
— Amity

Mostly just using T.S. Elliot's The Wasteland as a standin for the category, since the essay I read pretty much treated it as a sort of revolutionary moment in poetry, where I thought it was clear he was inventing his own form and following it -- and certainly I felt the meaning that was there, the mood, the imagery... assertion isn't the right word, but I'm claiming that T.S. Elliot shows with this poem that we don't need the classical forms to convey meaning, (though maybe that's controversial! Others might say that it's clearly meaningless because it doesn't follow the forms....) — Moliere

Well, I'm not sure that you can make a general claim about 'modern poets' from a single, stand out example of 'Modernism':
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Waste_Land

But I don't really understand what point you are trying to make.
Meaning is there, no matter the form.

As for TSE, I've just been reading about him and others on the FutureLearn course.
There's a range of writing on tradition: what it is, the different forms it can take, and how writers may or may not feel they belong in a given tradition. There are perspectives, including feminist innovation, but it starts off with this:

'Tradition and the Individual Talent’ - T. S. Eliot

“Tradition is a matter of much wider significance. It cannot be inherited, and if you want it you must obtain it by great labour. It involves… a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence; the historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of the literature of Europe from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order. This historical sense… is what makes a writer traditional. And it is at the same time what makes a writer most acutely conscious of his place in time, of his contemporaneity.

No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead.”

We can ask questions about 'tradition' and whether it is true that 'if you want it you must obtain it by great labour'. There seems to be a contradiction...

TSE seems to appreciate tradition as involving a perception, a historical sense.
Recognising the past as part of the present.

It isn't clear to me that any 'inventions of new forms' show that 'we don't need classical forms to convey meaning'. Meaning is where we find it in any shape or form.
Again, I'm probably not fully understanding the issue at hand.
I see poetry like any other kind of art as different strands evolving. 'Revolutionary'...it makes it seem like there's a war between different factions. Even if there is push-back, then isn't it the case that the 'new' then becomes another 'tradition'? A rich tapestry of many colours.
There are different 'traditions' (and forms) - some more open and inclusive than others.

Previously, I posted poetry about current Ukranian war by female poets. Who read or responded?
I was trying to move beyond English male-dominated, traditional poems.
It's difficult even to think of 'foreign' WWI poetry.

IV. Soldati (Giuseppe Ungaretti)
The next poem on our list is by modernist Italian poet, essayist, and journalist Giuseppe Ungaretti who debuted his career in poetry while he was fighting in the trenches during World War 1. Here is his very short poem, Soldati.
— Italian Poems

Soldati (Soldiers)
by Giuseppe Ungaretti (Translated by Matilda Colarossi)

Si sta come

d'autunno

sugli alberi

le foglie

***

We are as

in autumn

on branches

the leaves

***

Soldati - Ungaretti: paraphrase, analysis and commentary:

https://www.scuolissima.com/2018/10/soldati-ungaretti.html

While browsing for poems -- I have never before ventured down the path of The Wasteland until now. And I really did love it. I read an essay beforehand, knowing that the poem is notoriously difficult, and she suggested to sit at home with the sound of the poem rather than starting out with the analytic approach of trying to understand all the references, or even all the images! I can feel the cohesive mood in the poem, but the ending mystifies me. — Moliere

I haven't read The Wasteland, have to admit I'd never even heard of it.
I'm interested in 'the sound of the poem', so I searched Librivox:

There are quite a few readings but this one sounds good to my ears. It is last in a selection of 60.
(I was delighted to find 'The Owl and the Pussycat', a childhood favourite, easy to remember and recite.)

https://librivox.org/poetic-duets-by-various/

FutureLearn course quite good. One student commented that he enjoyed listening to poetry podcasts gaining a better appreciation of old and new poets/poems.

I hadn't even thought of podcasts. There are 1,000's millions of them!
https://podcastreview.org/list/best-poetry-podcasts/

Here's one on Emily Dickinson:

Frank [Skinner] went on holiday with Emily Dickinson and came back in love with her poetry. The poems referenced are ‘After great pain, a formal feeling comes’, ‘One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted’ and ‘A Wind That Rose’ by Emily Dickinson. — Planet Radio

https://planetradio.co.uk/podcasts/frank-skinner-poetry-podcast/id-2087857/

And from Scotland but not only Scottish poets:
https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/podcasts/

For example:

Beverley Bie Brahic is a Canadian poet and translator who lives in Paris, France and the San Francisco Bay Area. Her poetry collection, White Sheets, was a finalist for the Forward Prize and a Poetry Book Society Recommendation. Her translations include Guillaume Apollinaire, Francis Ponge and Yves Bonnefoy. Suzannah V. Evans spoke with her at StAnza 2020, where she discussed how translating poetry inspires her own work, owning a secret shelf of erotic literature, and being a ‘selfish translator’.

If I heard right, she prefers descriptions to meaning. Doesn't believe in meaning. About 5mins in.
https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/podcast/beverley-bie-brahic/

How to begin one's day?

How should, could, would one begin one's day?
Depends on time, place and person; context and circumstance.

Not the same as 'How do you begin your day?' Like how much would I be willing to share here :yikes:

I could say I shake my head to get rid of lingering earworms, like:
"Tory Bastards, Damn Them All to Hell and Back!" :rage: [ No, not back...stay there!! Burn :fire: ]
...or a pleasant-ish piece of pop :party:



Then I dance my way to the bathroom...groovy baby :cool:

Poetic Phrases we use without knowing from whence they came:
HWL - The Theologian’s Tale, Part IV, Verse 1

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. — HWL - The Theologian's Tale, Part IV

I've always liked "The Song of Hiawatha" by Wordsworth. A link:

https://www.hwlongfellow.org/poems_poem.php?pid=288 — T Clark

I'm sorry I passed this by.
Thank you for the link. I didn't know much about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (HWL).
Turns out he was quite the traveller and loved languages.

His trip began in 1826 and lasted three years. It was the first of a number in his lifetime that would take him throughout Europe, lead to the acquisition or mastery of seven languages, and introduce him to both classical literatures and the living authors of many countries. From this first trip also came his first youthful book and some indication of his literary temperament. It was a meditative travelogue called Outre Mer: A Pilgrimage Beyond the Sea (1835)
[...]
He was, we might say, a completely literary man: imaginatively engaged with works of literary genius; generous to other writers, whom he translated and published regularly; and in love with the act of writing and the power of language. "Study of languages…" he wrote to his family on that first trip to Europe, "is like being born again." — hwlongfellow

And now my favourite language. Italian. L'italiano è la lingua della musica :cool:

Listen as you read the poem below:


Il lampo (The Lightning)

by Giovanni Pascoli

E cielo e terra si mostrò qual era:

la terra ansante, livida, in sussulto;

il cielo ingombro, tragico, disfatto:

bianca bianca nel tacito tumulto

una casa apparì sparì d’un tratto;

come un occhio, che, largo, esterrefatto,

s’aprì si chiuse, nella notte nera.

***

How does the English compare?

And sky and earth showed what they were like:

the earth panting, livid, in a jolt;

the sky burdened, tragic, exhausted:

white white in the silent tumult

a house appeared disappeared in the blink of an eye;

like an eyeball, that, enlarged, horrified,

opened and closed itself, in the pitch-black night.

***

5 more here:
https://talkinitalian.com/italian-poems/

And my little tribute: — Cuthbert

I'm slow on the uptake. Love the Cope and Cuthbert couplet comparisons 1. and 2. :up:

Two Cures for Love

1. Don’t see him. Don’t phone or write a letter.
2. The easy way: get to know him better.
— Wendy Cope

And many more.... — Cuthbert

Where are you finding them? The short form suits me well :flower:

So, a simple couplet. Clever; reflecting title and theme.
What do you think/feel when you read it?

1. I think nothing is that simple. Silence is not golden.
And there is a bit of a :joke: in 2.

Definitely easy to remember, as if that was all there is to it :broken: :heart:
But I guess it can be seen as one of those bitter-sweet reminders...
She seems to like her Written Rules. What is it about her?

Are triplets rare? In poetry...

Is that really how it is written?
Not like this:

Don’t see him.
Don’t phone or write a letter.
The easy way: get to know him better.

:chin:

Poetry: How to read a poem - University of York
— Amity

And my little tribute:

Two ways to read a poem

1. Study hard and analyze it.
2. The easy way: learn it by heart and let it live there. — Cuthbert

I'm sure there must be a third way. There always is. Goldilocks tells me so...

This has become one of my all-time favorite discussions. — T Clark

Moi aussi :cool:

I like every which way it turns.

The following poem, “La tombe dit à la rose” (The Grave and the Rose), was written after the death of [Victor] Hugo’s daughter Léopoldine. In his grief, he wrote many poems on the subject, including “Demain, dès l’aube” and “À Villequier.” Her death took a huge toll on Hugo emotionally and was a subject in his work for years after the death.

Original Text:

La tombe dit à la rose :
– Des pleurs dont l’aube t’arrose
Que fais-tu, fleur des amours ?
La rose dit à la tombe :
– Que fais-tu de ce qui tombe
Dans ton gouffre ouvert toujours ?

La rose dit : – Tombeau sombre,
De ces pleurs je fais dans l’ombre
Un parfum d’ambre et de miel.
La tombe dit : – Fleur plaintive,
De chaque âme qui m’arrive
Je fais un ange du ciel !

[...]

English Translation:

Note that the structure is different in the English translation, so it’s not necessarily word-for-word. You’re going to have to study up on the missing vocab using your French dictionary to find those missing links. Since French and English poems are organized differently (remember all that talk about syllables and stress accents?), translations aren’t always simple.

The Grave said to the Rose,
“What of the dews of dawn,
Love’s flower, what end is theirs?”
“And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb’s mouth unawares?”
The Rose said to the Grave.

The Rose said, “In the shade
From the dawn’s tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet.”
“And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
More strangely than the dew,
To God’s own angels new,”
The Grave said to the Rose.
— 3 Short French Poems for Language Learning

No, it's a jingly kind of pop.
— Amity

The title and the first two lines of each stanza set us up for feeling slow and reflective. The last four lines run in the rhythm and rhyme of a limerick (minus the first line). The serene mood is undermined to make it, well, funny. If we had been asked to guess the author I would have said Wendy Cope.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=49670 — Cuthbert

Ah, you're talking about 'Serenity Prayer' by Brian Bilston. The thoughts just spilled out as I was racking my brain as to what the rhythm reminded me of. Strange the associations... [*]

Send me a slow news day,
a quiet, subdued day,
in which nothing much happens of note,
just the passing of time,
the consumption of wine,
and a re-run of Murder, She Wrote.

Grant me a no news day,
a spare-me-your-views day,
in which nothing much happens at all –
a few hours together,
some regional weather,
a day we can barely recall. — Brian Bilston

[*]

The rhythm of the first two lines in each verse reminds me of something heard before.
Possibly a pop song or an advert...
Something along the lines of 'This is not just food. This is M&S food'.
No, it's a jingly kind of pop.
Ah, got it!
The Bangles...
It's just another manic Monday (Woah, woah)
I wish it was Sunday (Woah, woah)
'Cause that's my fun day (Woah, woah, woah, woah)
My I don't have to run day (Woah, woah)
It's just another manic Monday — Amity

***

Wendy Cope, I've actually heard of but can't recall a single poem?!
More to do with my memory. I could relate to her 'Written Rules' very easily. Women of a certain age.
Almost like my post-it reminders...stuck around the house.
'Don't fall for an amusing hunk'. If only...

'Don't live with thirty years of junk -
Those precious things you'll never find.
Stop, if the car is going "clunk".'

Yep. I've not only got my own years but those of my forebears. Sifting through forever and a day.

I enjoyed the bitter-sweet taste. The '-unkiness' of it all. :sparkle:

This discussion has been thought-provoking and, for me, a wonderful learning experience.
Eventually, I hope to re-read this short poem and try to understand it better: — Amity

There's a free 4-week course on FutureLearn:
Poetry: How to read a poem - University of York

Arrêter! Bugger off to Deep Songs. This post will now self-destruct :fire:

Why not? But enough already!
GOTO the Lounge. It's where it's at :cool:

I remember when I was a little girl, our house caught on fire.
I'll never forget the look on my father's face as he gathered me up
In his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement.
And I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole world go up in flames.
And when it was all over I said to myself, "Is that all there is to a fire"

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

And when I was 12 years old, my daddy took me to the circus, the greatest show on earth.
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears.
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And so I sat there watching
I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over,
I said to myself, "is that all there is to the circus?
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

And then I fell in love
With the most wonderful boy in the world.
We would take long walks by the river or just sit for hours gazing into each other's eyes.
We were so very much in love.
Then one day he went away and I thought I'd die, but I didn't,
And when I didn't I said to myself, "Is that all there is to love?"

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing

I know what you must be saying to yourselves,
If that's the way she feels about it why doesn't she just end it all?
Oh, no, not me. I'm not ready for that final disappointment,
Because I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you,
When that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath, I'll be saying to myself

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

Songwriters: Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller. For non-commercial use only.
Data From: Musixmatch

It just dawned on me that I haven't the foggiest about what's going on. Is this the way it's supposed to be? — Agent Smith

Never mind reality. Sing 'Is that all there is?' by Peggy Lee.

May your offspring floruit like, as they say, nobody's business! — Agent Smith

Well, you can join in too. With your flair for language, you can take the first verse :cool:
'Floruit' - I thought you were flourishing your français but non, it derives from Latin.
Good call, as they say.
Mind and take care...of your bananas ideas... :nerd:

Thank you :clap:

Meaning tends to influence rhythm as much as the other way round, and different people might emphasise different words. A short Poem:
Danielle Hope, "The Mist at Night" (from The Poet's Voice, 1994):
[...]
It's one of my favourite poems. — Dawnstorm

Thank you.
Your whole post is a pleasure to read. I've saved it for later.
I appreciate you taking a short poem to show how analysis can work to improve understanding.
Yours is what I would call high-level +++ :100:
Your writing clear and confident. Your approach to answering the questions :clap:

I looked up Danielle Hope and found more. So good.

This discussion has been thought-provoking and, for me, a wonderful learning experience.
Eventually, I hope to re-read this short poem and try to understand it better:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers
BY EMILY DICKINSON

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me. — Poetry Foundation

I love this. I get the gist and the feel but...there's more...

Elsewhere, I proposed a change of the lyrics of 'Yes, We Have No Bananas' for the benefit of a new philosophy club: 'Yes, We Have No Idea/s'.
It seems there are already different lyrics out there. The song has a deep political background:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yes!_We_Have_No_Bananas

Compare the lyrics sung here to those below:



There's a fruit store on our street
It's run by a Greek
And he keeps good things to eat But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers "no"
He just "yes"es you to death, and as he takes your dough He tells you
"Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
We've string beans, and onions
Cabashes, and scallions,
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned tomato
A Long Island potato But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today

Business got so good for him that he wrote home today,
"Send me Pete and Nick and Jim; I need help right away"
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet
Someone asked for "sparrow grass" and then the whole quartet
All answered "Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Just try those coconuts
Those wall-nuts and doughnuts
There ain't many nuts like they
We'll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today"

He, he, he, he, ha, ha, ha whatta you laugh at?
You gotta soup or pie?
Yes, I don't think we got soup or pie
You gotta coconut pie?
Yes, I don't think we got coconut pie
Well I'll have one cup a coffee
We gotta no coffee
Then watta you got?
I got a banana!
Oh you've got a banana!

Yes, we gotta no banana, No banana, No banana, I tell you we gotta no banana today
I sella you no banana
Hey, Mary Anna, you gotta... gotta no banana?
Why this man, he's no believe-a what I say... no... he no believe me...
Now whatta you wanta mister? You wanna buy twelve for a quarter?
Well, just a one of a look, I'm gonna call for my daughter
Hey, Mary Anna You gotta piana
Yes, a banana, no
Yes, we gotta no bananas today!

The new English "clark" (a.k.a. "clerk"):
Yes, we are very sorry to inform you
That we are entirely out of the fruit in question
The afore-mentioned vegetable Bearing the cognomen "Banana"
We might induce you to accept a substitute less desirable,
But that is not the policy at this internationally famous green grocery
I should say not. No no no no no no no
But may we suggest that you sample our five o'clock tea
Which we feel certain will tempt your pallet?
However we regret that after a diligent search
Of the premises By our entire staff
We can positively affirm without fear of contradiction
That our raspberries are delicious; really delicious
Very delicious But we have no bananas today.
Songwriters: Frank Silver, Irving Conn. For non-commercial use only.
Data From: Musixmatch