Sunday, March 08, 2020
SCRAPS OF PERSIAN POETRY, AND OTHER POEMS BY DONOVAN BALDWIN WRITTEN JANUARY 24, 2020
By Donovan Baldwin
Scraps of Persian poetry,
Japanese, Chinese, German,
Balinese, French, and Irish,
For the love of it...
That's the word... love...
Love songs of other places,
Races of this one race
Called mankind,
We, brother sister poets,
Singers of love songs,
We all hear and read and
Understand the warp and woof,
Of the poetic soul despite,
To our ears,
The oddness of the language,
For the inner colors of
Our souls are all the same.
-----
My friend, Sun, the artist
Awoke in a mellow mood today.
Lazily brushing
Pastel pink across the east,
Pastel gold along the west,
All against a bowl of blue
For a watercolor dawn.
-----
I was thinking about Spring
When I saw beside the path,
Small pink flowers
Timidly poking their tiny heads
Up among dead and frosted
Blades of grass,
Not sure if it's time
To spring forth,
Or to wait a while,
For warmer weather.
We'll wait together,
The tiny flowers and I.
-----
I lost some words.
They're around here somewhere,
Hiding from me.
They know I want to play with them,
And they're tired of me
Using them for my own pleasure.
Wish I knew how to
Make my words have fun.
Understand that I love them,
And want them to come out,
And play with me.
-----
Let's climb some hills,
Explore some caves,
Go for a dip in
A sacred grotto.
Let's smile and laugh
At the silliest things,
Made exciting,
Hilarious,
Because we're sharing them.
You and me.
That's what makes a good time,
Wherever we are,
Whatever we're doing...
Now, about those hills and caves...
And that grotto.
-----
Somewhere between mountains and the sea,
A field of flowers demands to be seen,
And lovers pass from one to the other
Happy to be wherever they are
As long as they can be together,
For it's not the place but the person,
Who makes you want to go again.
-----
Scraps of Persian poetry,
Japanese, Chinese, German,
Balinese, French, and Irish,
For the love of it...
That's the word... love...
Love songs of other places,
Races of this one race
Called mankind,
We, brother sister poets,
Singers of love songs,
We all hear and read and
Understand the warp and woof,
Of the poetic soul despite,
To our ears,
The oddness of the language,
For the inner colors of
Our souls are all the same.
-----
My friend, Sun, the artist
Awoke in a mellow mood today.
Lazily brushing
Pastel pink across the east,
Pastel gold along the west,
All against a bowl of blue
For a watercolor dawn.
-----
I was thinking about Spring
When I saw beside the path,
Small pink flowers
Timidly poking their tiny heads
Up among dead and frosted
Blades of grass,
Not sure if it's time
To spring forth,
Or to wait a while,
For warmer weather.
We'll wait together,
The tiny flowers and I.
-----
I lost some words.
They're around here somewhere,
Hiding from me.
They know I want to play with them,
And they're tired of me
Using them for my own pleasure.
Wish I knew how to
Make my words have fun.
Understand that I love them,
And want them to come out,
And play with me.
-----
Let's climb some hills,
Explore some caves,
Go for a dip in
A sacred grotto.
Let's smile and laugh
At the silliest things,
Made exciting,
Hilarious,
Because we're sharing them.
You and me.
That's what makes a good time,
Wherever we are,
Whatever we're doing...
Now, about those hills and caves...
And that grotto.
-----
Somewhere between mountains and the sea,
A field of flowers demands to be seen,
And lovers pass from one to the other
Happy to be wherever they are
As long as they can be together,
For it's not the place but the person,
Who makes you want to go again.
-----
Labels: donovan baldwin, flowers, love, Persian poetry, poems, words
Wednesday, September 18, 2019
POEMS, COMMENTS, AND HAIKU BY DONOVAN BALDWIN, SEPTEMBER 17, 2019
For, each glance you send my way,
Each spark, when your eyes catch mine,
The hint of your scent lingering
After you have passed,
The brief touch of hand to hip,
Brush of breast or thigh or butt,
Carries more "I love you's",
Than all our words.
-----
let's be intimate
hold one another naked
bare scarred souls on view
-----
singing silent songs
words tossed carelessly upon
breeze's melody
-----
I see your unseen face
Hear your unheard voice.
You are in the sky,
The Sun the Moon,
The millions of stars,
Even in the blackness of space,
Upon which they are displayed,
And you, you,
Are the voice of that choir
Which sings to me
In wind and rain and birdsong,
And my own words.
-----
you, night's shyest star
snuggled into my warm arms
to be held in trust
-----
stepping as flowers
roses and other beauties
enter my garden
-----
if i mountain man
privateer or beachcomber
can live without love?
-----
To my south beats the great sea
Only small part of the oceans of the world,
Yet part of that larger all that touches
So many lands,
So many peoples,
So many ways,
Inland and around land,
Hovering about islands
Suspended in beauty
Upon the water which touches
All the other seas.
-----
It was a fire like ice
A cold flame burning
Daily within my soul,
Illuminating the dark,
Yet never heating me
For I have been so cold so long,
That the flame must be
So very bright and high indeed,
And yet, and yet...
You, brightest, warmest,
Drive away the cold
And make me warm.
-----
her spreading petals,
welcome special visitor
guest and host smiling
-----
unconditional
that's how we love each other
over and over
-----
your words move through me
becoming part of my thoughts
creating the new me
-----
i facing the sea
turning upon endless beach
in search of someone
-----
Copyright September 2019 by Donovan Baldwin
Labels: donovan baldwin, fire like ice, flowers, great sea, intimacy, intimate, love, poem, poetry, spreading petals, unconditional love
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Ancient Nahuatl Poem - Song at the Beginning
The following is an example of 16th century Nahuatl poetry, after the Conquest and probably, by subject matter, composed by a convert to the Christian faith. The Nahuatl language was one of the Aztec languages of Central Mexico. The title, before translation, of course, would be "Cuicapeuhcayotl", or, in English...
Song at the Beginning
1. I am wondering where I may gather some pretty, sweet flowers. Whom shall I ask? Suppose that I ask the brilliant humming-bird, the emerald trembler; suppose that I ask the yellow butterfly; they will tell me, they know, where bloom the pretty, sweet flowers, whether I may gather them here in the laurel woods where dwell the tzinitzcan birds, or whether I may gather them in the flowery forests where the tlauquechol lives. There they may be plucked sparkling with dew, there they come forth in perfection. Perhaps there I shall see them if they have appeared; I shall place them in the folds of my garment, and with them I shall greet the children, I shall make glad the nobles.
2. Truly as I walk along I hear the rocks as it were replying to the sweet songs of the flowers; truly the glittering, chattering water answers, the bird-green fountain, there it sings, it dashes forth, it sings again; the mockingbird answers; perhaps the coyol bird answers, and many sweet singing birds scatter their songs around like music. They bless the earth pouring out their sweet voices.
3. I said, I cried aloud, may I not cause you pain ye beloved ones, who are seated to listen; may the brilliant humming-birds come soon. Whom do we seek, O noble poet? I ask, I say: Where are the pretty, fragrant flowers with which I may make glad you my noble compeers? Soon they will sing to me, "Here we will make thee to see, thou singer, truly wherewith thou shalt make glad the nobles, thy companions."
4. They led me within a valley to a fertile spot, a flowery spot, where the dew spread out in glittering splendor, where I saw various lovely fragrant flowers, lovely odorous flowers, clothed with the dew, scattered around in rainbow glory, there they said to me, "Pluck the flowers, whichever thou wishest, mayest thou the singer be glad, and give them to thy friends, to the nobles, that they may rejoice on the earth."
5. So I gathered in the folds of my garment the various fragrant flowers, delicate scented, delicious, and I said, may some of our people enter here, may very many of us be here; and I thought I should go forth to announce to our friends that here all of us should rejoice in the different lovely, odorous flowers, and that we should cull the various sweet songs with which we might rejoice our friends here on earth, and the nobles in their grandeur and dignity.
6. So I the singer gathered all the flowers to place them upon the nobles, to clothe them and put them in their hands; and soon I lifted my voice in a worthy song glorifying the nobles before the face of the Cause of All, where there is no servitude.
7. Where shall one pluck them? Where gather the sweet flowers? And how shall I attain that flowery land, that fertile land, where there is no servitude, nor affliction? If one purchases it here on earth, it is only through submission to the Cause of All; here on earth grief fills my soul as I recall where I the singer saw the flowery spot.
8. And I said, truly there is no good spot here on earth, truly in some other bourne there is gladness; For what good is this earth? Truly there is another life in the hereafter. There may I go, there the sweet birds sing, there may I learn to know those good flowers, those sweet flowers, those delicious ones, which alone pleasurably, sweetly intoxicate, which alone pleasurably, sweetly intoxicate.
Song at the Beginning
1. I am wondering where I may gather some pretty, sweet flowers. Whom shall I ask? Suppose that I ask the brilliant humming-bird, the emerald trembler; suppose that I ask the yellow butterfly; they will tell me, they know, where bloom the pretty, sweet flowers, whether I may gather them here in the laurel woods where dwell the tzinitzcan birds, or whether I may gather them in the flowery forests where the tlauquechol lives. There they may be plucked sparkling with dew, there they come forth in perfection. Perhaps there I shall see them if they have appeared; I shall place them in the folds of my garment, and with them I shall greet the children, I shall make glad the nobles.
2. Truly as I walk along I hear the rocks as it were replying to the sweet songs of the flowers; truly the glittering, chattering water answers, the bird-green fountain, there it sings, it dashes forth, it sings again; the mockingbird answers; perhaps the coyol bird answers, and many sweet singing birds scatter their songs around like music. They bless the earth pouring out their sweet voices.
3. I said, I cried aloud, may I not cause you pain ye beloved ones, who are seated to listen; may the brilliant humming-birds come soon. Whom do we seek, O noble poet? I ask, I say: Where are the pretty, fragrant flowers with which I may make glad you my noble compeers? Soon they will sing to me, "Here we will make thee to see, thou singer, truly wherewith thou shalt make glad the nobles, thy companions."
4. They led me within a valley to a fertile spot, a flowery spot, where the dew spread out in glittering splendor, where I saw various lovely fragrant flowers, lovely odorous flowers, clothed with the dew, scattered around in rainbow glory, there they said to me, "Pluck the flowers, whichever thou wishest, mayest thou the singer be glad, and give them to thy friends, to the nobles, that they may rejoice on the earth."
5. So I gathered in the folds of my garment the various fragrant flowers, delicate scented, delicious, and I said, may some of our people enter here, may very many of us be here; and I thought I should go forth to announce to our friends that here all of us should rejoice in the different lovely, odorous flowers, and that we should cull the various sweet songs with which we might rejoice our friends here on earth, and the nobles in their grandeur and dignity.
6. So I the singer gathered all the flowers to place them upon the nobles, to clothe them and put them in their hands; and soon I lifted my voice in a worthy song glorifying the nobles before the face of the Cause of All, where there is no servitude.
7. Where shall one pluck them? Where gather the sweet flowers? And how shall I attain that flowery land, that fertile land, where there is no servitude, nor affliction? If one purchases it here on earth, it is only through submission to the Cause of All; here on earth grief fills my soul as I recall where I the singer saw the flowery spot.
8. And I said, truly there is no good spot here on earth, truly in some other bourne there is gladness; For what good is this earth? Truly there is another life in the hereafter. There may I go, there the sweet birds sing, there may I learn to know those good flowers, those sweet flowers, those delicious ones, which alone pleasurably, sweetly intoxicate, which alone pleasurably, sweetly intoxicate.
Labels: aztec poem, aztec poetry, flowers, nahuatl poem, nauatl poetry
