eviltigerlily: (tea)

No no: they definitely

Were human: uniforms, boots

How to explain. They were created in an image

I was a shadow.

I had another creator.

And in his kindness he left nothing in me to die.

And I ran to him, I arose light, blue,

Appeased, I would say: apologetic:

Smoke to omnipotent smoke

Which has no body or likness.

-Dan Pagis
eviltigerlily: (worry)
It is not a good idea to read Oliver Twist and The Merchant of Venice at the same time.

Seven novels are rather a lot for one course. Also Dickens writes rather long novels.

Religious poetry is seriously screwed up. Very beautiful poetentially, but screwed up.

The easiet text I have to read is in Latin.

And now it's raining. On the plus side - new Gallifrey!
eviltigerlily: (tea)
Moscow it is then. I'll do some sight seeing, relatives visiting, cooling (it's still over 30C) and not being in Israel. I'm hoping to save up money during the year and go somewhere else in the summer, a new place. Possibly Italy or even England. Both are relevant to my interests. Oh and fun.

I'm leaving on Monday, so lots to do before then. Presents to buy for the family and I have to unearth my winter clothes (it's 6C there last time I checked). I also want to get together a rough idea of what I want to do, so I can arrange my time to suit.

Have now read Beowulf. Am impressed, but I can't help worrying how much of it's power has been lost in translation. *flattens the urge to learn another dead language*
eviltigerlily: (irresistible)
So the first thing they did on the course is give us an exam. I don't think I did very well on the mathematics section. I only answered 11 questions out of 25. The annoying thing is I'm good with math, but in order to answer questions I need to actually think about the solution, and with 25 minutes for 25 questions there just isn't time. Still, I'm not too worried. They will teach us how to solve mathematical problems without thinking too much. I am the only one who thinks that's daft? Anyway, it's just for one test.

And now for something completly different....
Here's a lovely expert:

For our high Gods have sick and wearied grown
Of all our endless sins, our vain endeavour
For wasted days of youth to make atone
By pain or prayer or priest, and never, never,
Hearken they now to either good or ill,
But send their rain upon the just and the unjust at will.

They sit at ease, our Gods they sit at ease,
Strewing with leaves of rose their scented wine,
They sleep, they sleep, beneath the rocking trees
Where asphodel and yellow lotus twine,
Mourning the old glad days before they knew
What evil things the heart of man could dream, and dreaming do.

The poem is called "Panthea" ( frying-panthesit anyone?) and can be found here
eviltigerlily: (Default)
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean -- roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin -- his control
Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

His steps are not upon thy paths, -- thy fields
Are not a spoil for him -- thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For earth's destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,
And send'st him shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies
His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to earth: -- there let him lay.

From: Childe Harold's Pilgremage, Canto the IV

I LOVE this. I love the whole poem, but this is one of my favourite passages.
eviltigerlily: (Default)
"Kubla Khan" is one of my favourite poems. Normally I'm not a big fan of Coleridge, but I just love this poem. The imagery is beautiful, but it's the musicality of the poem that appeals to me most, praticulary this part:

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.


eviltigerlily: (Default)

June 2011



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