Kategori: Dagens dikt

Dagens dikt: ”?” av Robert William Service

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If you had the choice of two women to wed,
(Though of course the idea is quite absurd)
And the first from her heels to her dainty head
Was charming in every sense of the word:
And yet in the past (I grieve to state),
She never had been exactly ”straight”.

And the second — she was beyond all cavil,
A model of virtue, I must confess;
And yet, alas! she was dull as the devil,
And rather a dowd in the way of dress;
Though what she was lacking in wit and beauty,
She more than made up for in ”sense of duty”.

Now, suppose you must wed, and make no blunder,
And either would love you, and let you win her —
Which of the two would you choose, I wonder,
The stolid saint or the sparkling sinner? 

 
 
==

Dagens dikt: Döden tänkte jag mig så av Bo Setterlind

Mycket poesi om döden är deprimerande. Denna tycker jag faktiskt inte är det, utan snarare full av förtröstan. 
 
==
 
Det gick en gammal odalman och sjöng på åkerjorden.
Han bar en frökorg i sin hand och strödde mellan orden
för livets början och livets slut sin nya fröskörd ut.
 
Han gick från soluppgång till soluppgång.
Det var den sista dagens morgon.
Jag stod som harens unge, när han kom.
Hur ångestfull jag var inför hans vackra sång!
 
Då tog han mig och satte mig i korgen
och när jag somnat, började han gå.
Döden tänkte jag mig så.
 
 
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Dagens dikt: To be in love av Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks var Poet Laureate i Illinois och vann Pulitzerpriset för poesi. Hon var också den första Årets kvinna som utsågs av The Harvard Black Men 1995. I december läste vi We real cool och efter det har jag lärt mig mer! 
 
==
 
To be in love 
Is to touch with a lighter hand. 
In yourself you stretch, you are well. 
You look at things 
Through his eyes. 
A cardinal is red. 
A sky is blue. 
Suddenly you know he knows too. 
He is not there but 
You know you are tasting together 
The winter, or a light spring weather. 
His hand to take your hand is overmuch. 
Too much to bear. 
You cannot look in his eyes 
Because your pulse must not say 
What must not be said. 
When he 
Shuts a door- 
Is not there_ 
Your arms are water. 
And you are free 
With a ghastly freedom. 
You are the beautiful half 
Of a golden hurt. 
You remember and covet his mouth 
To touch, to whisper on. 
Oh when to declare 
Is certain Death! 
Oh when to apprize 
Is to mesmerize, 
To see fall down, the Column of Gold, 
Into the commonest ash.
 
 
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Dagens dikt: The Swing av Robert Louis Stevenson

Skattkammarön var aldrig min grej – men jag gillar Stevensons poesi. 
 
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How do you like to go up in a swing, 
Up in the air so blue? 
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing 
Ever a child can do! 
Up in the air and over the wall, 

Till I can see so wide, 

River and trees and cattle and all 
Over the countryside– 

 
Till I look down on the garden green, 
Down on the roof so brown– 
Up in the air I go flying again, 
Up in the air and down! 
 
 
 
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Dagens dikt: Incident av Countee Cullen

Countee Cullen var del av Harlemrenässansen i NYC under 1920-talet. 
 
==
 
Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,

And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, ‘Nigger.’

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That’s all that I remember. 

 
 
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Dagens dikt: A tear and a smile av Khalil Gibran

Jag har väldigt dålig koll på libanesiska författare – men denna läste jag i en tidning för ett tag sedan och tycker om. 
 
==
 
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart 
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes 
To flow from my every part turn into laughter. 

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life’s secrets and hidden things. 
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and 
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart; 
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the 
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are 
Satisfied the most wretched of people. 
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals 
And sleeps, embracingher longing. 
At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet 
The sun’s kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come 
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys 
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping 
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting. 
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from 
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter 
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow 
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death 
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty—-to God. 

 
 
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Dagens dikt: If we must die av Claude McKay

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If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursèd lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one death-blow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back! 
 
 
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Dagens dikt: ”Star light, star bright” av Dorothy Parker

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Star, that gives a gracious dole,
What am I to choose?Oh, will it be a shriven soul,
Or little buckled shoes?

Shall I wish a wedding-ring,
Bright and thin and round,
Or plead you send me covering-
A newly spaded mound?

Gentle beam, shall I implore
Gold, or sailing-ships,
Or beg I hate forevermore
A pair of lying lips?

Swing you low or high away,
Burn you hot or dim;
My only wish I dare not say-
Lest you should grant me him. 

 
 
==