h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Sorry, getting carried away there with the duende. So excited to read your essay about Lorca. Thanks Maria! I love to think about Lorca. Wish I was fluent in Spanish. I would love to read Lorca in Spanish.

I love the quote about the theatre, and I didn't know about La Barraca.

I love his essay called Theory and Play of The Duende. This is one of my favourite documents of all time. Makes me want to stand on a stage and declaim it, or proclaim it. Is it declaim or proclaim? What's the difference, must find out.

I can't do links, they never work, , but this is what I'm on about ...

http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Spanish/LorcaDuende.htm

Of course, you can read it in the original Spanish, grrr, that would be so great. heheh.I dream, I dream.

Thanks again, Maria, you reawakened my Lorca obsession.

I can't bear it that he was killed like that.

cc

Mi querida Cactus-Cafetina,

It´s me who feels grateful. I hadn´t read that essay on the duende since my days at university!! long time that, and re-reading it now has meant a delicia, a pleasure. It´s so funny, so fresh, colourful... no wonder that you love it, It´s like you!

here´s in Spanish:
http://www.taurologia.com/imagenes/fotosdeldia/1909_federico_garcia_lorca__juego_y_teoria_del_duende__.pdf

I´ll read your link in English later. I´m curious to know how the translator has managed with all that colorful and metaphoric language Lorca uses.

That essay on artistic creation was received, as usual, with scandal by the same stiff stuffy people who couldn´t bear how Lorca was placing at the same level of artistic creativity an illiterate gipsy and Goethe or Santa Teresa.
Those kind of people without sense of humour nor imagination, nor sensitivity were the same that killed that poet.

That´s a sad page of the recent history of Spain, still unhealed.


For you, cheerful woman,

Hello Maria,

I'd heard a little of Lorca, of course, but knew little, too.
Thank you for bringing him to attention

Rod

Ah yes! yes! and now I have my beloved duende writings in Spanish, thankyou Maria

It is so beautiful in the Spanish!, this will nudge me into learning. I have the English printed out already, so I will print out the Spanish and read them both together, like a duel language book.



Cactus Cafetina

Thanks Rod

CC,

I thought of that text on the duende last night.

I have next to my bed a piece of furniture with drawers full of books, mostly poetry. I have some intakes of them as if they were sleeping pills. Last night I took a dosis of Whitman. I read it in Spanish, I have to get a copy in English... bueno, pues I read it and these are the words that made me think of what Lorca says about the duende:

First in Spanish, then in English, try to guess:

Soy el poeta del cuerpo y soy el poeta del alma.
Los placeres del cielo están conmigo y las penas del infierno están conmigo.
Injerto y aumento los primeros en mi ser,
los segundos los traduzco en una lengua nueva.

I am the poet of the Body;
And I am the poet of the Soul.

The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the pains of hell are with me;
The first I graft and increase upon myself --
the latter I translate into a new tongue.

...

That´s duende, isn´t it? Whitman is one of my favourite poets. I love him.
Lorca dedicates a poem to Whitman in his Poet in New York. A long one, very poignant.

Leonard Cohen is also an admirer of Lorca. He translates into English a poem of Lorca and adds music. The video starts with Cohen saying how did he "meet" Lorca.



http://youtu.be/WdkIW7V8Y0w

The spanish poem Cohen sings in English:

Pequeño Vals Vienés


En Viena hay diez muchachas,
un hombro donde solloza la muerte
y un bosque de palomas disecadas.
Hay un fragmento de la mañana
en el museo de la escarcha.
Hay un salón con mil ventanas.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals, este vals,
este vals con la boca cerrada.

En Viena hay cuatro espejos
donde juegan tu boca y los ecos.
Hay una muerte para piano
que pinta de azul a los muchachos.
Hay mendigos por los tejados,
hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals, este vals,
este vals que se muere en mis brazos.

Este vals, este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac,
que moja su cola en el mar.
Porque te quiero, te quiero amor mío,
en el desván donde juegan los niños,
soñando viejas luces de Hungría
por los rumores de la tarde tibia,
viendo ovejas y lirios de nieve
por el silencio oscuro de tu frente.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals, este vals,
este vals de quebrada cintura.

Este vals, este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac,
que moja su cola en el mar.

En Viena bailaré contigo
con un disfraz que tenga cabeza de río.
¡Mira qué orillas tengo de jacintos!
Dejaré mi boca entre tus piernas,
mi alma en fotografías y azucenas,
y en las ondas oscuras de tu andar.
Quiero amor mío, amor mío, dejar
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.
Quiero amor mío, amor mío, dejar
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Toma este vals, este vals,
este vals del "te quiero siempre".

Este vals, este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac,
que moja su cola en el mar.

Este vals, este vals, este vals, este vals,
de sí, de muerte y de coñac,
que moja su cola en el mar.

Porque te quiero, te quiero amor mío,
en el desván donde juegan los niños,
soñando viejas luces de Hungría
por los rumores de la tarde tibia ...

Thanks for that terrific video Maria and for this item for . What an interesting person Lorca was. Revolutionary politically active poets - very . I think all art threatens the status quo.

I agree with you Electra. A poet said " Poetry is a weapon charged with future"
Celaya was the poet, he had to exiliate, as many did to save their life.

I´m glad you like the video of Cohen and the item for the post. Next year I´ll prepare something about
some Latino American writer, the problem is that there are sooo many and so good all of them... Maybe, I could
write about the "The Boom" fenomena and the relationships with North American writers... because I love to mix
different countries, cultures... to show, among other things, how close are we the human family.

Morning all!

Holypoets, Maria, now you got me learning and yearning and burning. And it is only 5am.

The Leonard Cohen video made me shiver. Incredible, and thankyou! and to see the poem in Spanish, I think I will faint because of beauty and poetic nervous energy.

I love it that Leonard Cohen named his daughter Lorca, after the Muse. .

I think that's how I first heard of Lorca, in fact, from listening to Cohen since.. since forever ... since 1973 or so, when I was a young person on the threshold of life, on the threshold of the Void, haha, hmm, and I reached for those lyrics and songs and poems like you reach for your Whitman books, to help me to take another breath.

I love your description of the books you keep in the drawers beside your bed .. you make lovely word pictures.

Its amazing, you know, this is the way for me to learn Spanish, just to read these poems, for which I have passion and feeling, and it is as if the sense comes through, you know, like I understand, without understanding every word, as if I can hear the music of the language.

Wait! I must get more coffee , and change postings. So inspired now.

(sips coffee) ah, that's better.

So now the name Gabriel Celaya is in my life! Gabriel Celaya. So much inspiration in the moments of my life.

Ah yes! yes! And the poetic threads that run through it all, connecting us all, in some way.

(I might not be making perfect sense right now, , never do when I am inspired, but I just saw these threads, you know, like strands of energy, like white light bridges, criss crossing the atmosphere, like thought energy, linking our individual brains)



And then so many poets, artists, seers, seekers, who have been condemned, even to death, because of their vision, because their light was too bright. I get weird thinking about it, but I have to think about it, because the history of the world runs through my veins, along with everything else. It is all there, in the sensory mix, in the telepathic atmosphere.



And now I must let the poetry of Whitman filter into my veins! I read Leaves of Grass in my youth, on the threshold of divine nervous inspiration, but I think I was too young to truly understand, so now I must re-read Whitman. I think I am ready. Where to start? I start with Maria's posting, with Whitman in English and Spanish, that's where I start.

Speak to me of Whitman! I must awaken!

Cactus Cafetina

Sorry to intrude, but I just couldn't resist:

Chambao - Duende del Sur
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcVDmqtjrU4

Maria

Tu escritura es hermosa.

Thank you so much for this contribution. I am inspired. What a good start to the day to find this article to read.

Thanks Paul and Lanza, me alegra que os guste esto.

Mi querida Cactus Cafetina,

Your words make perfect sense to me. Is not poetry another kind of knowledge? Intuitive and essential wisdom. I agree with Celaya in that poets manage to sing the eternal truths. That´s why you can enjoy Lorca and I can enjoy Whitman, Lorca loved Whitman, Cohen loves Lorca…. We love humankind, nature, joy… You see, here you are your
bright bridges, querida amiga.

<sips

Last night I was reading La Poesía es un arma cargada de futuro. A long time since I hadn´t read it. That poem seems written right now by an indignado person in any place of the world. It has, sadly, the same strenght that when it was written.

But then we have our Whitman and his gospel of love . His words make me feel hope.
Me encanta que quieras leer poesía to learn Spanish. It´s a perfect idea. I hope that you find a good translation for Whitman.

I can´t resist to bring here Celaya, after all this thread is becoming a worthy appendix for the item in the Post, btw, Gracias Dimitri for giving it shape.

LA POESÍA ES UN ARMA CARGADA DE FUTURO

Cuando ya nada se espera personalmente exaltante,
mas se palpita y se sigue más acá de la conciencia,
fieramente existiendo, ciegamente afirmado,
como un pulso que golpea las tinieblas,

cuando se miran de frente
los vertiginosos ojos claros de la muerte,
se dicen las verdades:
las bárbaras, terribles, amorosas crueldades.

Se dicen los poemas
que ensanchan los pulmones de cuantos, asfixiados,
piden ser, piden ritmo,
piden ley para aquello que sienten excesivo.

Con la velocidad del instinto,
con el rayo del prodigio,
como mágica evidencia, lo real se nos convierte
en lo idéntico a sí mismo.

Poesía para el pobre, poesía necesaria
como el pan de cada día,
como el aire que exigimos trece veces por minuto,
para ser y en tanto somos dar un sí que glorifica.

Porque vivimos a golpes, porque apenas si nos dejan
decir que somos quien somos,
nuestros cantares no pueden ser sin pecado un adorno.

Estamos tocando el fondo.
Maldigo la poesía concebida como un lujo
cultural por los neutrales
que, lavándose las manos, se desentienden y evaden.

Maldigo la poesía de quien no toma partido hasta mancharse.
Hago mías las faltas. Siento en mí a cuantos sufren
y canto respirando.

Canto, y canto, y cantando más allá de mis penas
personales, me ensancho.

Quisiera daros vida, provocar nuevos actos,
y calculo por eso con técnica qué puedo.

Me siento un ingeniero del verso y un obrero
que trabaja con otros a España en sus aceros.

Tal es mi poesía: poesía-herramienta
a la vez que latido de lo unánime y ciego.
Tal es, arma cargada de futuro expansivo
con que te apunto al pecho.

No es una poesía gota a gota pensada.
No es un bello producto. No es un fruto perfecto.
Es algo como el aire que todos respiramos
y es el canto que espacia cuanto dentro llevamos.

Son palabras que todos repetimos sintiendo
como nuestras, y vuelan. Son más que lo mentado.
Son lo más necesario: lo que no tiene nombre.
Son gritos en el cielo, y en la tierra son actos.

Hi my friends. I have thought of this thread since I knew Leonard Cohen had died.

I´ll fix the link of youtube since it is broken now. It´s where he explains how he met Lorca, and how he took the path of music.
http://vimeo.com/59236984

Also, I want to link the song with the Lorca poem I mentioned before.

http://youtu.be/jWMOqVKHeSQ

Hola Maria! Great to hear from you after all these months! I haven't been around on h2g2 much .. been resting my ancient brain.. Haha.

Typing this from my phone in a cafe. Peering at tiny screen on flickering wifi so will check links etc later.

So sad about Leonard, the hero of my youth. I cried all day. Interestingly I just emailed Dmitri to say hullo after all these months and it was around the time that Len died and he made a tribute to put in the Post and requested I did too .. so I did .. think for next week's edition?

Lovely to hear from you again!

Cc..kisses. I forgot how to find kiss smiley or any smiley on this tiny screen.

Hola Amiga!

How good you are around, at least today! I havent´t been much here either.

Your brain have been resting? That means you are fresh now, como una rosa!

I felt sad, maybe too much, maybe his death triggered some sadness I had in my heart and needed to get out.

Yesterday I re read this thread. And enjoyed it as if it was fresh, that´s because of the magic that this place still has.

A big hug for you and

Ah, did it. The smileys.

Ah Lorca. Ah Leonard. Ah Maria. I think I'll cry again. But t'will be a sweet tear because beauty and poetry never die.



Do tortoises have ancient brains? I think from now on I might conduct all my communications in tortoise language. What is tortpise language?

Actually I think I speak the language of ancient lizard.

I'm still in the cafe with the flickering wifi. I have to get out of here.

s to you both. The tributes will be in 21 November edition of .

Ah yes. I know a lot of people who've been really saddened by Len's passing.

Hang on .. just post this ..then start again ..

Oh, its OK. My script went into a completely different size, like huge, but looks OK when posted.

I think I might go mad trying to access hootoo from three Android devices and all whilst riding a bicycle .. its OK I do get off and sit on a bench. haha. However I persist for love of this site ..


I think the sadness is because Len represented a poetic communication, a depth, a love, a way of being and seeing ..

However I think these ways are eternal and inherent in our souls and they will never die.



I have a deep desire to start a new journal thread, the first post being written entirely in the language of Ancient Lizard.

This is most worrying.

Just been checking the links you sent, Maria. Amazing. So dignified and gracious and holy and quietly humorous yet deeply serious.



By the way, I wasn't complaining about the h2g2 software, earlier. It's me, trying to work Android on location. . Or even not on location.