Acquainted With The Night

by Robert Frost

William Butler Yeats

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W. B. Yeats was an Irish poet who recerived the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923 as the first Irishman so honored. The Nobel Committee described his work as "always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation."

Belle Starr

Shed not for her the bitter tear
Nor give the heart to vain regret,
'Tis but the casket that lies here,
The gem that fills it sparkles yet.

The above poem is the epitaph on the tombstone of Belle Starr, the "Bandit Queen". A notorious American outlaw and leader of a band of cattle and horse thieves in the Oklahoma Territory, Belle Starr (born Myra Maybelle Shirley) married three different bandits and associated with other outlaw bands, most notoriously the James-Younger Gang (of which the most (in)famous member is probably Jesse James). A quote by her reads, "I am a friend to any brave and gallant outlaw."

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!" he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

The Charge of the Light Brigade, which has another five stanzas beside the one quoted above, is a poem by Alfred Tennyson concerning a charge of British light cavalry against Russian forces during the Battle of Balaclava in 1854. Apparently due to miscommunication in the chain of command, the Light Brigade was sent on a frontal assault against a well-prepared artillery battery, and was forced to retreat with heavy casualties. The poem quoted above was published just six weeks after the event and praises the valour in bravely carrying out orders regardless of their suicidal nature.

I was surprised that beside being one of Britain's most popular poets, Tennyson also originated the well-known phrase, "'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all".

Psychopomps

Existing in many religions, a psychopomp is a figure that escorts newly deceased souls to the afterlife, and has been portrayed in many different ways. In Egyptian mythology, for example, Anubis is a jackal-headed god, being depicted as a protector of graves, an embalmer, and the god who not only ushers souls into the afterlife, but also weighs their hearts to determine whether the soul will be allowed to enter the realm of the dead.

Depicted (clockwise) above are several psychopomps: Hermes, an Olympian god from Greek mythology, Mercury, the Roman deity, Anubis, mentioned above, a horse, raven, whip-poor-will, cuckoo, owl, crow, sparrow, and hart. There are many other psychopomps (such as the Welsh Gwyn ap Nudd / Arawn), and in several cultures dead relatives (parents, siblings, forefathers) function as psychopomps.

The word psychopomp originates from the Greek word psuchopompus (ψυχοπομπός), which literally means "guide of souls", and when the depiction is of birds, they are often seen in huge masses, waiting outside the home of the dying. On perhaps an unrelated note, feel free to take a minute to read The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. One could imagine that the raven is a psychopomp who carried away the soul of "the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore"...

Sapphic Stanza

Yesterday I came across the Greek poet Sappho and was fascinated not only by her poetry (most of which has been lost to time), but also by her life and reputation. I was particularly intrigued by the below quote by the 3rd-century philosopher Maximus of Tyre, which led to a very interesting journey along the pages of Wikipedia concerning Socrates and the other names mentioned in the quote.

"What else could one call the love of the Lesbian [note: from Lesbos] woman than the Socratic art of love? For they seem to me to have practised love after their own fashion, she the love of women, he of boys. For they said they loved many, and were captivated by all things beautiful. What Alcibiades and Charmides and Phaedrus were to him, Gyrinna and Atthis and Anactoria were to her ..."

Sappho wasn't a philosopher, but refreshing my memory on Socratic values and reading Plato's dialogue Phaedrus was just as interesting as learning about the Sapphic stanza, a meter Sappho may or may not have originated. It's an Aeolic verse form (Aeolic Greek being a dialect of Ancient Greek spoken on the Aegean island of Lesbos, where Sappho came from) that spans four lines.

With "-" for a long syllable, "u" for a short one and "x" for an anceps (or free syllable), the metric is thus:

- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u u - u

Sappho's poems are, of course, in Ancient Greek (a language I unfortunately don't understand), but there is an excellent page here with a large number of her poems both in their original forms and their translations. There are, however, some rather humorous attempts by more contemporary poets to use the metric with English words. From Wikipedia, my favorites have to be this one by the Australian poet John Tranter:

Writing Sapphics well is a tricky business.

Lines begin and end with a pair of trochees;

in between them dozes a dactyl, rhythm

rising and falling,

like a drunk asleep at a party. Ancient

Greek — the language seemed to be made for Sapphics,

not a worry; anyone used to English

finds it a bastard.

and this one by Oxford classicist Armand D'Angour:

Independent metre is overrated:

What's the point if nobody knows the dance-form?

Wisely, Sappho chose to create a stately

regular stanza.

I made my own attempt, and after failing terribly in English I tried in in German. It worked out slightly better, but I believe my metric is flawed in more than one place. So tricky! But, to end this post, here's my attempt.

            Auch auf Deutsch ist's schwieriger als man denken
            würde; aber hey, einen Versuch ist's doch
            wert, nicht wahr? Da kommt man doch in's Probieren,
                      strengt das Gehirn an.

Catullus - Carmen 5

Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum severiorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus inuidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us judge all the rumors of the old men
to be worth just one penny!
The suns are able to fall and rise:
When that brief light has fallen for us,
we must sleep a never ending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand more, then another hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them all up so that we don't know,
and so that no one can be jealous of us when he finds out
how many kisses we have shared.

Been a bit under the weather these past few days with a very persistent headache, so I'm afraid this post doesn't have much thought behind it. I simply came across this poem today and rather liked it.
Hope you're all doing well!