Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 Sorrow and bones on the ground The dust spinning my face. craven start to sing on my window. The fog won the battle with view of the sun took by storm. The bones are all around on the green grass The cravens are still singing and keeps the field of death Few alive eyes, are looking for the nightingales. Where are they. Why they are not singing... Just song by the cravens. Oh there is no time. Too long song... The bones are going under ground. The opened eyes are closing... Sorrows, Death, cravens on the field and tearful eyes watching by the window. The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
tonyv Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 Aleksandra, You know this is one of my favorite poems of yours. The imagery is bleak -- reminiscent of that first scene in Dr. Zhivago (the burial scene) -- and the expressions are melancholic and lovely. My favorites: Sorrow and bones on the ground The dust spinning my face. craven start to sing on my window ... Few alive eyes, are looking for the nightingales. Where are they. Why they are not singing... Just song by the cravens ... The bones are going under ground. The opened eyes are closing... Sorrows, Death, cravens on the field and tearful eyes watching by the window. I love this beautiful poem. Thank you for posting it! Tony :) Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic
Larsen M. Callirhoe Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 ah aleksandra such a sad song for a wonderful creature. this birds song is defenitely unique. victor Larsen M. Callirhoe
goldenlangur Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 songs of sorrow Hello Alek, What a melancholy tone your poem has - is this bird and its song a harbinger of ominous news? But th epoet already seems immersed in visions of death, burial, the end of the physical body, while the spirit and what remins of it after the assaults in life is weighted down by this sorrowful song in the heart. Nature here offers no solace - the poet's pain and sadness echo in everything around her: Oh there is no time. Too long song... The bones are going under ground. The opened eyes are closing... Sorrows, Death, cravens on the field and tearful eyes watching by the window. Poignant and beautifully expressed. goldenlangur goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.
Mr. M Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 I think I must agree with Tony...so reminescent of Dr. Zhivago. It is a favorite movie of mine. :) M
Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Author Posted April 21, 2009 Aleksandra, You know this is one of my favorite poems of yours. The imagery is bleak -- reminiscent of that first scene in Dr. Zhivago (the burial scene) -- and the expressions are melancholic and lovely. My favorites: Sorrow and bones on the ground The dust spinning my face. craven start to sing on my window ... Few alive eyes, are looking for the nightingales. Where are they. Why they are not singing... Just song by the cravens ... The bones are going under ground. The opened eyes are closing... Sorrows, Death, cravens on the field and tearful eyes watching by the window. I love this beautiful poem. Thank you for posting it! Tony :) Ah Tony, thank you for your comment, and as I said before, I am pleased bc this poem reminds you on that movie what I watched long time ago, while I was little girl :P. You are always so nice my dear Aleksandra x The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Author Posted April 21, 2009 ah aleksandra such a sad song for a wonderful creature. this birds song is defenitely unique. victor Hey my dear Victor, thank you for your words. I am glad because this poem worked as should to be works. And bw where are you? I miss you. I hope you are well and all is fine there with you. I wait for your voice my friend. Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Author Posted April 21, 2009 Hello Alek, What a melancholy tone your poem has - is this bird and its song a harbinger of ominous news? But the poet already seems immersed in visions of death, burial, the end of the physical body, while the spirit and what remins of it after the assaults in life is weighted down by this sorrowful song in the heart. Nature here offers no solace - the poet's pain and sadness echo in everything around her: Oh there is no time. Too long song... The bones are going under ground. The opened eyes are closing... Sorrows, Death, cravens on the field and tearful eyes watching by the window. Poignant and beautifully expressed. goldenlangur Thank you a lot goldenlangur for your such a beautiful comment. Yes these kinds of birds are bringing bad news, they are known as messengers for bad news. And thats why I used cravens, and I had problems with this word, because in English language is more used - ravens and it is not same bird. And the melancholy tone is the right sense what I wanted to give in this poem Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Author Posted April 21, 2009 I think I must agree with Tony...so reminescent of Dr. Zhivago. It is a favorite movie of mine. :) M :) Thank you Michael. I am glad for that. Hope you are fine too. Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
Tinker Posted April 21, 2009 Posted April 21, 2009 Hi aleks, I love the images of this poem.... My favorite lines The fog won the battle with view of the sun took by storm. Sadness permeates this poem. I want to send you a bluebird, the bird of happiness, to chase the cravens away. ~~Tink ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com
Aleksandra Posted April 21, 2009 Author Posted April 21, 2009 Ah Tinker you are so kind and so sweet. Thank you my dear. I need different " birds " around me, different messengers, so the bluebird will be just fine Thank you so much for your lovely comment. Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia
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