Englische Gedichte

[Leo Navis]

Moin,

Da ich am Montag eine Englischarbeit schreibe und es um Gedichte geht, wollt' ich fragen, ob jemand - relativ kurze - englische Gedichte hat. Niveau ist egal, ich hab nur kein Bock selbst wieder Ewigkeiten nach einem zu suchen.

Danke im Voraus!

[mggelheimer]

Eins meiner Lieblingsgedichte auf englisch.


John Maynard!
by Theodor Fontane

"Who is John Maynard?"

"John Maynard was our helmsman true.
To solid land he carried us through.
He saved our lives, our noble king.
He died for us; his praise we sing.
John Maynard."

*

From Detroit to Buffalo
As mist sprays her bow like flakes of snow
Over Lake Erie the "Swallow" takes flight
And every heart is joyful and light.
In the dusk, the passengers all
Can already make out the dim landfall,
And approaching John Maynard, their hearts free of care,
They ask of their helmsman, "Are we almost there?"
He looks around and toward the shore:
"Still 30 minutes.... a half hour more."

All hearts are happy, all hearts are light --
Then out of the hold comes a cry of fright.
"Fire!" it is, that terrified shout.
From the cabin and hatch black smoke pours out.
Smoke, then fire and flames aglow,
And still 20 minutes to Buffalo.

And the passengers, in a colorful crowd
Stand pressed together on the bow.
Up on the bow there is still air and light
But the smoke at the helm forms a thick, dark night.
"Where are we? Where?" the men must know,
And still 15 minutes to Buffalo. --

The wind grows strong but the smoke cloud stays.
To the helm the captain turns his gaze.
The helmsman is hidden by the raging fires
But through the bullhorn the captain enquires:
"Still there, John Maynard?"
"Yes, sir. I am."
"Onto the beach! Into the surf!"
"Yes, sir. That's my plan."
And the people cry: "Hold on! Hallo!"
And still 10 minutes to Buffalo.--

"Still there, John Maynard?" And the answer is clear,
Though with dying voice: "Yes, sir. I'm still here."
And in the surf, rocks, obstacles afloat,
Into their midst he plunges the boat.
To be saved, it's the only way to go.
Salvation: the shores of Buffalo!

*

The fire is out. The ship's run aground.
All are saved. Only one can't be found.

*

The bells ring out, their notes all fly
From churches and chapels to heaven on high.
The city is still but for funeral bells.
For one service only the sad sound swells:
In the procession ten thousand go by,
Or maybe more -- and not one dry eye.

With layers of flowers the grave they soften.
Under more flowers they bury the coffin.
With golden script in marble stone
The city has its tribute shown:

"Here lies John Maynard! In smoke and fire
He held fast to the wheel; he did not tire.
He saved our lives, our noble king.
He died for us; his praise we sing.
John Maynard!"

Translated by Julie and Amy Huberman

[Leo Navis]

Vielen Dank schon mal!

:top:

[UnaDonna]

Invictus
William Ernest Henley
1849–1903

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.



mfg
Una Donna

[Just Amy]

Louis MacNeice - Prayer before Birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

fett ist meine lieblingsstrophe

[erdbeere]

Betty Butter bought some butter,
but she said the butter is bitter,
so she bought some better butter.

Anmerkung: Bitte schnell aussprechen ;)

[Heiko]

So many
letters in my life I started
most of them I threw away.

So many
friendships shall last forever,
most of us will go astry.

So many
chances in my life,
ideas left unborn.
Will I wake up in the end -
realizing it's all gone?

No.
I see the sunlight breaking through the clouds,
see me standing there.
Seemed to me that all hope was lost, BUT
my eyes keep on shining,
my heart goes on beating
and I'll try again.

[Salazar]

Eins meiner Lieblingsgedichte auf englisch.


John Maynard!
by Theodor Fontane



Ist das wirklich auf Englisch verfasst worden?
Glaube ich kaum.

[Salazar]

Mir fällt auf Anhieb dieses Kurze hier ein:

Eldorado by Edgar Allan Poe


Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old
This knight so bold
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied
"If you seek for Eldorado!"

[Don]

Ein Limerick, selten und nicht in der Literatur zu finden:

There was a British Colonel in Baroda
Who did not pay a whore what he owed her
So in her despair
She stood on a chair
And pissed in his whisky and soda