jueves, 28 de mayo de 2015
Caged Bird
BY MAYA ANGELOU
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
“
He is a bad boy who listens to French music
and draws glamourous buildings.
Words of romance
is leaking from his mouth.
He is the celebrity I want
to wake up in bed somewhere in Paris.
and draws glamourous buildings.
Words of romance
is leaking from his mouth.
He is the celebrity I want
to wake up in bed somewhere in Paris.
In a petite and pretty apartment,
sleeping in lingerie with perfume
on our sun-kissed skin.
I let him draw me naked
on the balcony while
smoking luxurious cigarettes.
sleeping in lingerie with perfume
on our sun-kissed skin.
I let him draw me naked
on the balcony while
smoking luxurious cigarettes.
And he moans the words; Je t’aime ma chérie..
”— | Mama, I Am Running Away To Paris by Royla Asghar |
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
Ozymandias.
I met a Traveler from an antique land,
Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Event in Ecuador
2015 Interpretatio poetry, literary genre that allows unravel the essence of human feelings, together with another genre that allows them visible through stories that describe, narrate, expose or argue reasons to understand our social, historical and individual reality, is presented here to invite young students who wish to enter the world of literary creation. Interpretatio Story Competition 2015, organized by the School of Social Sciences and Humanities USFQ, aims to stimulate reading and encourage important Ecuadorian poets writing stories from the interpretation of lyrical compositions. The order in writing, originality in linking with the poem chosen, the shape of the narrative, the verbal elaboration as much as the expressiveness and the communicative power of the texts will be assessed. The text will be unprecedented and, within the guidelines outlined above, the argument will be free.
Click here to see more information: https://www.usfq.edu.ec/eventos/interpretatio/Paginas/default.aspx
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