“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

Albert Einstein

Today’s Quote

Posted in Poetry

A Poem by Walt Whitman

A Noiseless Patient Spider

by Walt Whitman

 

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
Posted in Poetry

Song of Myself (1892 version)

By Walt Whitman

 

1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Posted in Reviews

A poet is a feigner

Autopsychography

by Fernando Pessoa, translated by Richard Zenith

The poet is a feigner                                                                                                                       who is so good at his act                                                                                                                   he even feigns the pain                                                                                                                   of pain he feels in fact.

And those who read his words                                                                                                         Will feel in his writing                                                                                                                       neither of the pains he has                                                                                                             but just the one they’re missing.

And so around its track                                                                                                                      this thing called the heart winds,                                                                                                   a little clockwork train                                                                                                                     to entertain our minds.

‘Autopsychography’ is Portuguese Fernando Pessoa’s (1888-1935) most translated poem. I think the reason why it has been repeatedly translated is the fact that so many authors finding an echo in Pessoa’s words. A poet fakes his pains, even when the pain he portrays is the pain he indeed feels, and it’s all in the name of the creative process. When I write about my own emotions and feelings, there is always a creative process that alters the pain as it is described. Below is my working translation. Any authors with any thoughts on this?

Autopsychigraphy

The poet is an actor.                                                                                                                     He acts so sincerely,                                                                                                                       he even pretends it is pain,                                                                                                             the pain he feels truly.

And those who read his works,                                                                                                   in reading his pains can feel,                                                                                                           not the poet’s fake and real pains,                                                                                            but only the ones they never felt.

And so, entertaining the reason                                                                                                     rides this little clockwork toy,                                                                                                         that we call the heart,                                                                                                                       round and round on its track.

Thanks for stopping by xoxo

 

 

Posted in Recommendations, Reviews

Verbose

Last night I managed to make it to the live literature night Verbose and I am so glad I made it. It was a great experience, the room in Fallow Café was full and a few of us hand to stand in the back – yes, I was a little late because I was working until 7.30pm. Verbose happens on the fourth Monday of the month hosted by the lovely Sarah-Clare Conlon and presents three headliners each month, who share a link between them; this month that link was Urbane Publications and the headliners Lavinia Murray (aka FJ McQueen), James Silvester and David Gaffney.

Luckily, we arrived on time to hear David Gaffney reading from his latest novel All the Places I’ve Ever Lived, which I found very intriguing and now I can say that I am the proud owner of a signed copy, which I can not wait to start reading, as soon as I finish Another Country by James Baldwin. You can find more about the book, if you click on the title. They got me at: “All the Places I’ve ever Lived is part ghost story, part murder ballad, part crime thriller and explores the themes of outsiders and difference, with a dark edge. People say it has a Twin Peaks feel.” I’m so looking forward to read it and I will write a review here, for anyone that hasn’t made their mind up yet. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay for James Silvester, but Lavinia was truly entertaining and got the audience in stitches during her original presentation of her debut novel Out Damned Spot. This is another title for my Summer reading list. The Prague Ultimatum, by James Silvester sounds very relevant and is one that I will try and find out more about, it is to be released in April. Watch this space! If any of my lovely readers gets around to read any of these promising novels, please let me know what you thought of them.

But Verbose is not just about high profile published writers, there are also ten three minute open mic slots and some of the ones I had the pleasure to witness last night were brilliant. Maybe next time, I’ll get to perform too; who know?! If any of my lovely friends wish to join me next month, let me know. I will inform here what are the headlights for March, when the time comes. Until then, happy readings!all-the-places

Eva Harmoni

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The world through the eyes of an unapologetic, savage gentleman. Bars are my hustle, Law is my profession & enlightenment is my Journey.